Atonement
by Darkalley29
Summary: AU. Not all sins will be easily forgiven.
1. Chapter 1

Rated M for language and adult situations

Disclaimer: I do not own SVU or its characters. They are the property of Dick Wolf.

Special thanks to Sitarra for her support in getting this story off the ground. AU is not typically my thing, but her constructive feedback gave me the courage to try. We'll see how it goes!

**Atonement**

**Prologue**

The rain thundered down.

Crushing. Punishing. Brutalizing.

The large, heavy drops of liquid streamed like a waterfall from the heavens, dull in the dreary mid-morning light. They drilled into her umbrella violently, ricocheting off the waterproof fabric and shattering into a fine mist that veiled the surrounding scene. The deluge was weighty, a steady pressure against her protective cover, and her arms ached from holding the umbrella still under the onslaught.

Her heart was also heavy. Also ached.

Dark head bowed, Olivia Benson stood motionless amongst the sea of mourners, her colorful umbrella adding to the eclectic patchwork gathered around the grave site. Beyond the umbrella mosaic, the only other color in the area on that dreary day was the bright emerald green grass on which the mourners stood, a sharp contrast to the brown dirt burial plot and morose gray headstone.

She was too far away to hear what the priest was saying. His words were nothing but a low drone, a steady hum muted by the pounding rain. Around her, faces were somber as the mahogany casket was slowly lowered into the ground, rivets of rain cascading off the sides. No one in her immediate vicinity cried openly, but those standing closer to the priest did, quiet sobs that Olivia witnessed in the shake of their shoulders.

Except for the man she observed steadily. He did not cry. Not one single tear.

No tears were necessary to convey his grief. It was written all over his handsome face.

The man stood almost directly beside the priest, holding an umbrella but not over himself, over the older woman beside him. She sobbed openly, her features contorted in pain, a marked difference from his stoic expression. The rain washed down his face, soaking the dark blue suit which clung tightly to his upper body. Droplets of precipitation stood out like dew on his short hair only momentarily before being flushed away by one of its cohorts.

He looked the same, yet so very, very different.

And she couldn't take her eyes off of him.

As the priest concluded his blessing, the tall, handsome man handed his umbrella to the older woman and stepped further into the pounding precipitation. Crouching down slowly, he slid his right hand under the small canvas that protected some of the surrounding dirt and drew out a handful of soft, brown soil. Straightening carefully, he stared down blankly at the glistening mahogany coffin and silently stretched out his arm, relaxed his fist, and released the dirt down into the hole. A few errant pebbles bounced enthusiastically off the lid and settled contently beside the ornate brass handles.

As he pivoted to return to his original position, the man's icy blue eyes found her molten chocolate ones across the span of the grave site as if drawn by a magnet.

* * *

It was like a vicious kick to the gut.

Crushing. Punishing. Brutalizing.

It stole his breath. Robbed him of precious oxygen.

Seeing her. After so many long years. Standing motionless under a yellow and green umbrella, her eyes gentle as they met his, her face betraying none of her feelings.

He prayed his face was equally as blank.

Realizing he had halted abruptly and was staring, Elliot Stabler propelled himself back into motion, his movements quick and jerky. To the onlookers, his pause wasn't nearly as long as it felt to him. The only person who even noticed was his mother, who glanced at him quizzically for a moment before slipping back into her grief. Removing the umbrella gently from his mother's shaky hands, Elliot returned to his place beside her as the priest began wrapping up the ceremony.

His eyes never left the priest, but he could feel the demanding vacuum in his attention that she created with her mere presence. Even without looking, he knew her eyes were still on him and he had to quell a strong urge to turn his face toward hers.

"Elliot?" He suddenly felt his mother's soft, papery hand on his arm and realized with a start that the ceremony had concluded. The crowd of damp and somber mourners was starting to plod down the small grassy knoll toward the line of cars waiting patiently on the road below.

"I'll meet you at the car." His tone was a bit sharper than he intended it to be, his eyes having returned to the woman standing motionless at the foot of the grave, watching him hesitantly. He could feel his mother's eyes on him as he handed her the umbrella and began crossing to the other side of the grave site, his black dress shoes slipping precariously on the wet, slimy grass, but he didn't glance back nor offer anything by the way of explanation. The rain pelted against his unprotected scalp, hard as rocks, and Elliot felt the flicker of a headache build at the edge of his temple.

It didn't matter. That was his penance.

The entire time he strode toward her, her eyes never left his. The dark brown orbs were empty, devoid of emotion, but not harsh. She was hiding behind her shields; he could see that clear as day. The same fucking shields she had thrown up in his face twelve years ago.

Some things never changed. Olivia was still a master at shutting him out.

The closer he got to her, the harder it was to breathe.

The more his heart jack hammered and his stomach clenched.

The sweatier his palms got.

The more he longed to be the one lowered into the cold, hard ground.

His shoulders were stiff as plywood by the time he stood before her, water dripping over his nose and streaming down his cheeks. He winced, physically pained by her proximity. She looked steadily up at him, opening and closing her mouth several times before finally finding a few, insufficient words.

"I'm sorry about your sister."

The words were soft, strained, but her voice was every bit as melodic as he remembered, and he flinched involuntarily as if she had slapped him.

Elliot was silent for a moment as he collected his thoughts, his cool eyes boring ruthlessly into the face of his ex-wife. Finally, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his soaked dress pants and arranged a look of complete disinterest on his features.

Fuck her.

That was the last thing she had to be sorry for.

Stepping past her, the fabric of his suit jacket brushing against the soft silk of her purple blouse, Elliot finally ripped his eyes away and looked down the hill to where his mother stood waiting. He didn't venture so much as one further glance at her face as he moved past, his parting words harsh and biting on that gloomy June day.

"You shouldn't have come back."


	2. Forgotten

**Chapter 1 – Forgotten**

A storm was coming.

The heavy rains that had plagued the funeral procession earlier in the day had ceased by night, replaced instead with a suffocating layer of humidity that choked the air. In the distance, thunder rumbled warningly, offering a vague promise of impending relief from the heat. Outside, the crash of the ocean intensified as the sea reacted primitively to the turbulent weather.

It was one of those nights you sweat without even moving.

One by one, the stars twinkling in the sky outside Elliot's bedroom window were snuffed out by the encroaching thunder clouds. It would have been an ominous sight, had Elliot actually noticed. Although his eyes gazed out the open window through the billowing curtains, he was blind to the developing tempest. Perspiration beaded on his chest as he lay on his back in his queen-size bed, covers piled in a heap at the foot of the mattress, one hand resting on his abdomen, the other tucked behind his head.

Thinking. About _her_.

He had forgotten how breathtakingly beautiful she was. He thought he had remembered vividly, but he hadn't. The past twelve years had faded his memory of the depth of her chocolate eyes, the smooth olive complexion of her skin, and the careful quirk of her mouth. Seeing her again, it had all come crashing back.

Her beauty. Their happiness. The pleasure.

The insurmountable pain.

The moment he lay eyes on her again, it was as if the hard shell that had formed over the last twelve years had peeled away, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. Standing by the grave site, he was transported back to that fateful day. In his mind, he saw her standing in the entrance of his living room, face pale, hands shaking and coated in a layer of sticky blood. He had leapt off the couch and gone to her immediately, gently pried her hands away from her side, and pushed up her shirt to examine the jagged cut. He had tried not to panic, but there had been so much blood, and she had steadfastly refused to go to the hospital.

Too many questions. And the police would suspect him. Try to paint him as the abusive husband when he was anything but. Concerned for her, Elliot was more than willing to take that chance.

Olivia wasn't.

Elliot had cleaned the wound carefully, gently picking out the glass slivers and dabbing antiseptic on the red, irritated skin. Despite his uneasiness, he had caved to her pleading and agreed not to take her to the nearest hospital. He had taken her to his room instead and held her until she finally fell asleep, the white gold of her simple wedding band glinting in the moonlight.

He had known instinctively that something was wrong. Something beyond the obvious physical injury. He could see it in her face. Feel it in the tension of her muscles. He sensed there was more she wanted to tell him, but couldn't, or wouldn't. He hadn't pushed, knowing that if he did she would retreat further into herself. Foolishly he had waited, reassuring himself that in the morning, after the trauma of the night's event had dissipated somewhat, she would be more willing to talk, to let him in on what was really bothering her. Tomorrow, he had promised, he would push harder.

Little did he know then that there would be no tomorrow.

Not for them.

* * *

She had forgotten how dark it got at night in that small town.

Over the past twelve years, Olivia had gotten used to the bright lights of Manhattan serving as her own personal nightlight. Now, in her small seaside hometown, thousands of miles from New York, engulfed in darkness, she felt disembodied, detached. Outside her window, the only light was generated by a smattering of stars, tiny glimmering pinpricks that were quickly being eradicated by the swelling storm clouds.

Lightning flashed in the distance.

Olivia lay in her childhood bed, a small double that had seen better days. An errant spring gouged into her back and the soft quilt beneath her was scratchy with age. She sweat constantly despite her minimal attire of boxers and a camisole. A small white fan whirred steadily on the bedside table, but it did nothing more than whisk around hot, stifling air. Rolling onto her side to escape the offending spring, Olivia irritably pulled the soaked hair away from the nape of her neck and stared out the window at the black abyss beyond. She prayed the storm would arrive soon to break the heat and crackling tension in the air.

The emotional tension of the day would not be as easily broken.

Physically, Elliot hadn't changed much in twelve years. He was still so handsome that her heart ached. His skin was still tan, toasted a pleasant light brown from consistent exposure to the sun. His body was still strong, lean and muscled, his shoulders broad. His hair was still dark and cropped short, but it was also shot through with a bit more gray and sat back further on his forehead than she remembered. His eyes were still as crisp and clear as the blue ocean, but beneath the depths something new lurked. Something she had never seen there before. Something cold. Something tightly coiled. His kind face was more lined and his lips didn't curl as readily up into a smile as they had when he was younger.

In fact, they didn't look like they smiled much at all anymore.

Seeing him again after twelve years had easily been the hardest thing she had had to endure in her entire life. Harder than growing up with an abusive, alcoholic mother. Harder than being homeless on the streets of New York City. Harder than dealing with the fallout of three failed marriages. Harder than childbirth. Harder than spending eight hours a day, five days a week, listening to and comforting victims of some of the worst traumas imaginable.

Hard. So very, very hard.

Not that she had expected it to be easy. She hadn't expected forgiveness, hadn't hoped at least consciously for that miracle. But she had thought that time would have softened the worst of it, removed most of the sting.

But it hadn't. Not for him. And not for her either.

"_You shouldn't have come back." _

His cold words replayed on a loop in her mind and she winced again, just as she had at the grave site. He was right. She shouldn't have. This was going to be too hard. She had managed to stay away for twelve years; she should have remained away for at least twelve more. And she would have, had it not been for Julie's death.

When she heard through the grapevine that Julie had lost her fight with cancer, Olivia had felt compelled to return. She was drawn back to the area as if trapped in a tractor beam. They had been good friends at one time, though not in the last twelve years. Julie had treated her like a sister. The time was right, and Olivia barely thought twice about booking the ticket that would return her to the small coastal town she had called home for most of her young life. Filling her worn suitcase, she had assured herself this was a perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. She could pay her respects to Julie and also finally close out her mother's affairs, ridding herself of all ties to that small seaside town.

She would be able to deal with seeing _him_ again. She had been sure she would.

She had been wrong.

"Mom?"

The sound of a small voice jerked Olivia from her thoughts. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she squinted through the inky darkness beyond the foot of the bed. As the storm drew closer and the lightning flickered brighter, she was able to make out the lanky frame of her son lurking in the bedroom doorway.

"Chase? What's the matter buddy?"

"I can't sleep. It's too dark. And the storm is creepy."

Olivia smiled in the darkness, brushing damp strands of hair away from her sticky forehead. She couldn't see him clearly, but she knew intuitively that Chase was wringing his hands and chewing on his bottom lip like he always did when he felt anxious.

"Did you want to crawl into bed with me?"

There was a pause before Chase spoke again, his voice wobbling in its effort to be strong. "I'm too old for that. It's just so . . . dark here."

Olivia scooted to one side of the small bed to make room for him as lightning flashed again, a bright jagged fork in the sky. Thunder grumbled in response to the lightning's call and the wind began to pick up ever so slightly. "Well you don't have to if you don't want to. But I find it dark here too. I know I'd feel better with some company."

They both knew he was too old to truly believe she was afraid of the dark, but her request gave Chase an out he wasn't too proud to take. He hesitated for only a moment longer before walking over to the bed and climbing in. Despite the heat, he pulled his half of the quilt up around his ears protectively as he lay on his side facing her. Smiling affectionately, Olivia propped her head up on her hand and gazed down at her son, reaching over to ruffle his sandy hair. Chase fell asleep quickly, his features relaxed in the comfort of her maternal presence, and Olivia was left alone to contemplate the best plan of action.

It was only for the summer. That was it. At most two months. She would avoid Elliot as best she could, be civil when she had to be. It didn't matter if he forgave her or not. The only relationship she would strive for with him was a purely professional one.

She could use the time away to get refocused. To clear her mind, to let some of the vicarious trauma dissipate. To rearrange her priorities. Plus, the fresh, seaside air would be good for Chase. He would get to spend time outside, away from the smog and bustle of Manhattan. Away from cruel kids and small apartments. Away from the people in his life who kept disappointing him.

Yes, Olivia decided as she closed her eyes and burrowed deeper into the quilt-covered mattress, this trip would be good for them. Both of them. And after the summer was over, she would never have to set foot in this seaside town again. Would never have to simultaneously relive the best and worst moments of her life.

She just had to survive the summer.


	3. Compassion

**Chapter 2 – Compassion**

"This town sucks."

Chase's whining complaint floated through the air as Olivia strolled along the sidewalk, enjoying the caress of the summer sun on her skin. Sighing deeply, she drew to a halt and turned around, pushing her sunglasses up on her head to better observe her son, currently trailing five feet behind her and scuffing his shoes loudly along the cement, a dog-eared book in one hand and an inhaler in the other.

"Come on, it's not THAT bad." Even as she mildly defended her hometown, Olivia could somewhat sympathize with Chase's disgruntlement. She had felt the same way at his age, bored with the same scenery, the same perpetual lack of things to do. Still, she had lived there for seventeen years. Chase had only arrived two days ago. If anyone should be complaining, it was her.

The town of Portside, established circa 1885, was no Manhattan. Not even close. A fiction writer would probably kindly describe it as a "quaint seaside town that time forgot".

In other words, it was small and ancient.

The population of Portside was approximately 500 people on a good day, many of whom had ancestors who had founded the town. The houses were stately but weathered, modeled immodestly in the two-story Victorian style, with large shuttered windows and wraparound porches. The exteriors were battered, chewed away by salt and other ravages from the nearby ocean, but the lawns were green and well-maintained. The downtown core, a strip of buildings five blocks long, was nothing to brag about. There were no fast food establishments and no chain stores. The small general store was the youth hangout and the closest hospital, school, and mall were several miles away. There was no hotel or motel, which was likely for the best given Portside was too small for any significant tourist trade. Portside's only claim to fame was its beautiful beach where occasionally, when the weather was at its hottest, a few folks from neighboring towns would stop by to take a dip in the ocean.

Today wasn't one of those super hot days. The storm from the previous night had successfully broken the worst of the heat and humidity, and although it was still warm enough for shorts and a t-shirt, it was not uncomfortable to be outside. The sun shone brightly overhead and the air was fresh and light. As she waited for her grumbling son to catch up with her, Olivia inhaled the familiar salty sea breeze, an extremely refreshing scent after twelve years of breathing smog.

Despite the sunscreen she had slathered on his face, Olivia could already see a tan starting to encroach on Chase's skin, the brown freckles sprinkled over his nose growing more distinct. It was an unfamiliar sight on Chase, who usually strove to spend as little time outside as possible.

When Chase finally drew closer, Olivia slid an arm around his slender, squared shoulders. "Cheer up buddy! Smell the fresh air! Enjoy the sun!"

"I hate being outside," Chase grumbled in response, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose but allowing his mother to steer him down the street. "I don't understand why I couldn't just stay at the house with Mrs. Leland."

"She's the housekeeper Chase, not your babysitter."

"She said it was fine if I stayed."

Olivia choked back a weary sigh, nodding politely at an elderly passerby. The emotions that played across the townsperson's face were predictable. They were the same emotions she had seen on the face of every single person she had encountered thus far in Portside. First, the townsperson would look at her with the genuine curiosity afforded to strangers in small towns. That curiosity would quickly acquiesce to surprise when the townsperson realized that she was not a stranger after all, but a long-absent native of the town. Olivia Benson, the girl who was there one day and gone the next.

When the elderly woman had passed, Olivia resumed her conversation with Chase. "Well, I said it wasn't fine and I'm your mother, so I win. Ha ha!" Her joking mock power trip earned a small, reluctant smile from her son. "Besides, I want to spend lots of time with you this summer. I want to hang out, sit on the beach by the ocean, fly kites, build sandcastles. Maybe make some trips into the city for shopping, catching a movie, visiting the zoo. What do you think? Sound like fun?"

Chase shrugged unenthusiastically. "I guess so. I'd rather just stay home and read though."

"Honey, I'm glad you like reading, I really am. But it's good for you to get outside too. We all need fresh air and sunshine. Don't you get sick of being cooped up in New York City?"

Again, Chase shrugged. "Not really. I like being inside. I don't understand why I couldn't bring my video game systems."

Olivia sighed, quickly wiping the look of irritation off her face and replacing it with a fake smile to greet another passerby. "Look, I know you aren't really excited about being here, but could you at least give it a shot? For me? It's only for the summer. We'll be back in Manhattan before you know it."

"I thought I was going to spend a couple weeks with Dad this summer." Chase's tone, although carefully moderated, exuded vulnerability and Olivia winced as a small rush of anger hit her veins.

That had been the plan, until Phil had cancelled. Again. As always.

"Dad's really busy at work this summer buddy. He wanted to take you, but he was worried he wouldn't be able to give you the time and attention you deserve." The lie came out smoothly, but Chase wasn't fooled.

"He's going away with his other family again, isn't he?" The genuine sadness on Chase's face broke Olivia's heart. Stopping abruptly, she crouched down in front of him, gripping his forearms lightly as she stared up into his melancholic eyes.

"Chase, your dad loves you very much. He just . . . doesn't always know how to show it."

Chase looked down at her blankly for a moment before nodding and turning his head to stare down a side street. Tears had formed in the corners of his eyes and Olivia had to swallow the urge to throttle Phil. All he had done since the divorce was disappoint Chase. Slowly, Olivia straightened back up and slipped her arm back around Chase's shoulders, hugging him against her lightly as they continued walking.

After a moment, he spoke again.

"I guess Shaun's busy too." The remark was offhand but immediately set Olivia's teeth on edge, as the mention of her most recent ex-husband tended to do. "He said he would take me to a Yankees game this summer."

Olivia sighed for the millionth time that morning, feeling so horrible for her son it was almost unbearable. "I know buddy. I'm sure when he gets my messages he will give us a call and schedule a day." Olivia felt momentarily guilty for voicing what she knew was a near impossibility, but she had already crushed Chase enough for one day. Shaun hadn't been returning her messages for months and she didn't anticipate him starting any time soon.

Sighing, Chase dropped the subject. "Where are we going anyway?"

Forcing herself to be cheery, Olivia pointed down the street. "We're heading to that lawyer's office to pick up some of Grandma's papers. Then we are going to stop at the real estate office and talk about putting the house up for sale. And then, because you are being such a good sport and tagging along with me while I do boring grown-up things, we are going to head to that cool little park we passed on the way into town and play on the swings!"

Glancing down at her son as they walked side-by-side into the downtown core of Portside, Olivia hoped to see at least a flicker of excitement on Chase's face at that prospect.

There was none.

* * *

In the tiny "heart" of Portside's downtown core, the small law office of Collins & Collins was squished unceremoniously between a bakery from which delicious aromas emanated and a tiny drycleaners from which delicious odors did not. The small silver bell hanging over the whitewashed door tinkled as Olivia entered, moving her sunglasses up to the top of her head and squinting into the relative darkness.

The small building was composed of three rooms - one main waiting area where a moderately-sized reception desk sat and two smaller rooms that served as offices, currently hidden behind closed frosted glass doors. At the oak reception desk, a well-dressed twenty-something woman was typing away at her computer, glancing up only briefly at the sound of the bell. To the right of the desk, a black leather couch sat pressed against the wall, bordered on both sides by potted ferns; to the left, a row of plastic chairs formed a stiff line in front of a coffee table loaded with trashy celebrity magazines. Chase made a beeline for the couch, throwing himself down on it with a noisy, exaggerated sigh and cracking open his book.

Pausing for only a moment to toss her son a warning glance, Olivia turned and approached the desk with a smile. The young receptionist greeted her pleasantly albeit belatedly, the white document on her computer screen reflected in her glasses.

"Yes, Olivia Benson. I'm here to see Mrs. Collins."

"Of course. If you would like to have a seat, she'll be right with you." The receptionist smiled politely and returned her attention to the computer screen as Olivia returned to the waiting chairs, lowering herself down slowly onto the one closest to the desk. Rolling her shoulders back, Olivia tried in vain to relieve some of the tension that had crept into the muscles there. She hadn't slept well last night, her mind still reeling from her brief interaction with Elliot at the funeral. Worried her restlessness would disturb Chase, she had eventually gotten up to go lay on the couch, but even the change in scenery had not helped her rest. The storm had long passed by the time she was finally able to doze off.

"Olivia?"

The sound of a familiar voice jolted Olivia back into the present and away from thoughts of her ex-husband. Head snapping up, she was surprised to see the smiling, friendly face of Alexandra Cabot standing before her.

"Alex!" Olivia could not have hidden the note of pleasantly surprised happiness in her voice even if she had wanted to. She stood up quickly and the two old friends embraced. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here," Alex explained with a smile, her eyes bright behind her dark glasses. "My husband Jim and I started up this law partnership together. You remember Jim right? Jim Collins?"

Olivia did, and was more than a bit astonished to hear that he and Alex were now married. Her mother, in their infrequent and brief phone conversations, had failed to mention that. Alex had been homecoming queen in high school, extremely pretty and extremely popular. Jim Collins had been an outcast, constantly teased and tormented by the jocks that Alex usually hung around with.

Opposites certainly did attract.

"Yes, of course I remember Jim. That's great! Good for you!" Remembering suddenly they weren't alone in the waiting area, Olivia half-turned, motioning to the couch and Chase's sprawled body. "This is my son, Chase. Chase, this is my friend Alex."

"Hi," Chase mumbled, glancing up only briefly from his book. When Alex flashed a full wattage smile in his direction, color flooded his entire face and darkened the tips of his ears.

"It's nice to meet you Chase." Still smiling warmly, Alex turned her gaze back to Olivia. "I have your mother's legal papers in my office. Come on back."

Alex's office was small and cluttered but not unwelcoming, with a large window that caught the late morning sun and provided an excellent view of the eclectic exteriors of the downtown businesses. The wood-paneled walls were decorated with diplomas and on her desk sat a framed photo of Alex and Jim with a young boy and girl.

"I heard you were back in Portside. Thought I would have bumped into you at Julie's funeral yesterday." Alex slid into the padded desk chair behind her desk and opened a drawer, rifling through to find the desired papers.

Pulling back the comfortable client chair across from Alex, Olivia sat down and folded her hands in her lap. "Yeah, I was there. I didn't see you either. We must have just missed each other."

Alex nodded absently, frowning down at her drawer in concentration. "Not surprising. I think the entire town was there!"

"Julie was well-liked," Olivia agreed, reflecting mentally back to the funeral. There had definitely been a huge crowd, not that she had really noticed at the time.

She hadn't noticed much of anything, except for _him_.

Finally locating and drawing a manila envelope of papers out of the drawer with a satisfied murmur, Alex turned her intelligent eyes to Olivia's face. "Did you, uh, see Elliot?"

Olivia sighed quietly. Alex always did have a knack for broaching the topics she personally would rather avoid. "Yeah. I saw him."

"Did you get a chance to talk to him?"

"Sort of. I guess. I passed on my condolences anyway. " The interaction quickly replayed in Olivia's mind and she had to stifle a cringe.

Sensing Olivia's discomfort, Alex's face emanated compassion, her blue eyes far softer than Elliot's had been the day before, but she refused to drop the subject. "How'd it go?"

Olivia laughed humorlessly, tucking an errant strand of dark hair behind her ear with a slender finger. "Not good. Not good at all. But about what I expected."

_Except worse_.

Alex watched her thoughtfully for a moment, millions of questions swirling in her eyes. Questions she had wanted to ask on that early morning twelve years ago when she had driven a distraught Olivia to the train station. Olivia had fought tears the entire way, lapsing into an uncontrollable bout of sobs on more than one occasion. Alex had assumed something had happened between her and Elliot, because her wedding ring was nowhere in sight and her fingers kept flying reflexively to where it should have been. But when she had returned to town and Elliot had seemed generally dumbfounded and in denial about Olivia's decision to leave, she had wondered what had really happened the previous night.

Olivia had been in no condition to answer hard questions then, and she didn't feel up to answering them now either. She fixed Alex with what she hoped was a convincingly pleading look, trying to convey her vulnerability without having to directly come out and say it. Everything was too raw, too close to the surface after yesterday.

Even after twelve years of no contact, of only secondhand information, Alex got the message. Sliding the envelope across the desk toward Olivia, she quickly changed the subject. "Well, here's all of your mother's legal paperwork. Copies of her will, copies of the deed to the house and land. The contents of her safety deposit box. Her account is still open at the bank. You'll need to close that out. She left you everything, so you can do with it what you please."

Swallowing hard, Olivia took the envelope of documents and managed a nod.

Clearing her throat and taking a deep breath, Alex reached under her desk. "There's also this." Carefully, she lifted up an ornate urn and placed it on her desk. "Your mother's ashes. She was cremated as per her wishes, without a ceremony. I'm not sure what you want to do with these."

Olivia stared blankly at the urn, a weird mix of emotions twisting together in her stomach. There was still anger there, a lot of anger. But anger was not the only emotion. There was also some disappointment - disappointment that her relationship with her mother had not been different. And some sadness – sadness that she had not returned earlier. That she had not come to see her mother when she got the call that Serena was in the hospital and that time was running out.

"You okay?" Alex's voice was soft and she reached out to lay a comforting hand on Olivia's. The gesture, though exceedingly simple, hit Olivia hard, and she felt her throat close up and tears well in her eyes. Here was someone, a good friend, a best friend, who she had walked away from twelve years ago and never contacted since, still treating her with a kindness and compassion that she didn't deserve.

"I'm okay," Olivia choked out, quickly wiping her watering eyes on her forearm. "Thanks for all this Alex."

"It's no problem." Leaning back in her chair, Alex strove to break the somber mood. "Now enough of all this formal stuff. What's your schedule like for the next few days? We need to get together for drinks! We have a lot of catching up to do!"


	4. Avoidance

**Chapter 3 – Avoidance**

There were a lot of "ones" in Portside.

One General Store. One small, family-owned and operated diner. One main street. One town hall. One sheriff's department. One run-down bar. One post office, and one park.

The same couldn't be said for all the "ones", but the park, at least, was a relatively decent size.

Sanderson Park sat a block or so back from the unerringly straight main street that slashed through Portside's downtown core. The park itself was close to ten acres, its composition part playground and part wooded hiking area. The playground was bright and colorful, boasting a newly installed spray pad, a vibrant multi-colored jungle gym, two sets of scarred swings, a large sandbox, various sizes of teeter-totters, and two slides, one plastic and curved, the other metal and straight. The semi-dense forest that lurked behind the playground was a brilliant emerald green due to yesterday's rain, but it looked subdued in comparison to the cheerful playground.

Thanks to the beautiful summer weather, the playground was currently earning its keep. The various activity centers overflowed with children of all ages. Some skipped enthusiastically through the spray pad clad in brightly patterned swimsuits while others clambered like wild animals around the jungle gym. All of the picnic tables in the surrounding area were occupied by parents and guardians, keeping a mild but watchful eye from the sidelines. The midday air was alight with children's voices and laughter and Olivia couldn't help but smile herself as she cut across the soft grass toward the playground, Chase once again lagging behind. She had also played in this park growing up. The exact equipment had changed, with more items being added and most being replaced at least once, but the basic layout remained the same.

When she was approximately five feet from the sandy border that marked the start of the playground, Olivia halted and turned to face her son, waiting for him to catch up with her before clapping her hands together. "So, what do you want to do first? The swings or the jungle gym?"

Glancing past her, his face devoid of discernable expression, Chase shrugged mildly. "I don't care. Whatever."

As she watched him, Chase's eyes flicked warily around the playground, observing the other children. The decrease in his comfort level was almost tangible; Chase had always been a shy child, and it was no secret to either of them that social situations were not his forte. Through all his years of schooling thus far he had yet to make a good childhood friend, opting instead to withdraw into himself and bury his nose in a book. Olivia worried about his social awkwardness constantly, had done everything she could think of to expose him to other children. Sports, clubs, playgroups, camps, everything, but invariably he struggled and she always felt guilty for coercing him into situations that made him anxious. He never complained, but Olivia knew intuitively that he was picked on a lot by his classmates for his scrawny build and quiet demeanor.

"How about the swings? Want to go on the swings with me?" Olivia kept her voice light and breezy with enthusiasm, hoping it would rub off on him. Chase opened his mouth to respond, his eyes still on the other kids, and the unhappiness that marred his features was unmistakable. It made Olivia want to cry, to punish herself for being a horrible mother.

"You know what, never mind, let's just go." Olivia made a dismissive motion toward the play area before Chase could speak. "We can go back to the house, make some lunch, maybe watch a movie."

Chase looked at her, watching the shadows play across her face before sighing inwardly. The thought of returning to the house was far more attractive to him than the playground, but he also wanted to please his mother, and he knew she really wanted to see him playing with other kids.

"Maybe I'll go on the jungle gym. Just for a few minutes."

"Okay!" Olivia brightened visibly, smiling encouragingly at her son. Taking his book from him, she motioned to a small wooden bench on the outskirts of the playground that had just emptied. "I'll be sitting over there. Make sure you wave at me."

As Chase glumly shuffled toward the play area, Olivia took a seat on the hard wooden bench, placing his tattered book down beside her. She watched her son approach the jungle gym tentatively, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. Despite the fact the other children paid him no attention, he still appeared uncertain and self-conscious. He glanced back at Olivia for just a moment, his sandy hair gleaming in the bright sun, before stepping into the play area and disappearing around the far side of the jungle gym.

Leaning back with a sigh, the unforgiving wooden slats of the bench digging into her spine, Olivia absently absorbed her surroundings. The energy of the children in the playground was not as contagious as she would have liked. After her conversation with Alex, Olivia felt tired, drained, but also strangely buoyed. One of the reasons she was so concerned by Chase's lack of friends was because she didn't have any either, and knew just how lonely that could make one's life. She had had friends at one point, several good ones in fact, not including Elliot who was her best friend. Since leaving Portside however, she had struggled to forge any strong bonds. Most of the people she had socialized with in New York were connected to her ex-husbands, so those relationships had withered right along with her marriages. It had been nice, very nice, to reconnect with Alex. She was looking forward to meeting up with her again for drinks in a few days, even though she knew that Alex would not be dissuaded from asking questions for long.

Olivia was going to have to provide some answers.

As she scanned the playground mildly looking for Chase, Olivia found her attention drawn to a nearby teeter-totter, where a beautiful young girl around eight years old had her head thrown back in merry laughter. She had one of those contagious laughs that floated through the air and her wide smile was equally catching. Her long blonde hair streamed in the breeze and her sparkling green eyes gazed joyfully at her teeter-tottering partner, a tall man who sat scrunched up on the tiny seat, knees up around his ears, muscled arms gripping the handle, and a wide smile on his face as he gazed up affectionately at the laughing child.

Shooting straight off the bench in surprise, Olivia couldn't smother her curse. "Shit."

On the other side of the teeter-totter, laughing happily along with the young girl, was Elliot Stabler.

So much for avoidance.

Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw the older lady sitting on the bench to her right glance over curiously at the outburst, and Olivia blushed furiously.

"Sorry," she muttered without looking at the woman, casting her gaze to the ground as she felt her cheeks color. "Just remembered something I forgot to do at home."

Sinking back onto the bench, wishing the earth would open up and swallow her, Olivia tried to make herself as small as possible so as to not draw any further attention. Especially not _his_ attention. She couldn't deal with another confrontation, couldn't absorb any more of his intense hostility. She knew she deserved it, wouldn't deny that for a second, but it still hurt like hell.

Feeling her neighbor's gaze still on her, Olivia started scanning the area more closely for Chase, suddenly wondering why in the world she had been so insistent that they come to this stupid park in the first place. She needed to disappear again, and quickly, before _he_ caught sight of her.

"Well I'll be. Olivia Benson."

The strong voice came from the observer to her right. Sighing internally, Olivia bit the inside of her cheek to quell her irritation. She didn't have time for this. Wasn't in the mood to stroll down memory lane with yet another person who knew her growing up. Pasting a fake smile on her face, Olivia forced herself to look closer at her neighbor, wishing vehemently that the woman would at least keep her voice down.

It took Olivia a moment to recognize her, but when she did, it hit her like a ton of bricks. Yet another person she had really hoped to avoid.

"Mrs. Stabler, hello!" Olivia stammered, brushing the hair away from her face and forcing down the blossom of shame in her gut. Bernie Stabler, Elliot's mother, had always treated her like a daughter, even more so than her own mother. Olivia had disappeared on her too, without so much as a kind word or a phone call.

"My goodness, look at you! All grown up!" Grabbing the child's backpack that was laying on the bench to her left, Bernie moved over to sit beside Olivia, a wide smile on her wrinkled face. Her eyes were every bit as sharp as Olivia remembered, her dark, graying hair framing her pale face. "No more of that Mrs. Stabler stuff. I told you years ago to call me Bernie. You didn't listen then, but you were still a teenager. We're both adults now! It's Bernie."

"It's good to see you again Bernie." And Olivia was mildly surprised to find that it was indeed good to see her, albeit uncomfortable. "How have you been?"

The second the question slipped from her lips, Olivia felt stupid. The woman had just lost her daughter. How did Olivia think she felt? Christ, and Olivia considered herself a skilled trauma counsellor.

Fortunately, Bernie showed less distress over the question than Olivia felt.

"I'm fine dear. Just fine. I heard you came back to town for Julie's funeral. That was so sweet of you."

Olivia swallowed, feeling like a heel. "It was the least I could do. Julie was a wonderful person. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Bernie's intelligent eyes welled up, but only for a moment. Her frizzled dark gray hair bobbed as she shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. "Thank you dear. But really, it was a blessing. Julie had been struggling for so long with the cancer. She was ready to go."

Suddenly something caught Bernie's eye and her attention was momentarily diverted, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Elliot, look who it is!"

Olivia's heart plummeted down into her sandals as she gulped loudly and slowly turned to face the music.

Elliot had hoisted the little girl from the teeter-totter up onto his shoulders and was craning his neck to look up at her when his mother called out. He looked toward the bench and froze when he saw Olivia, sitting there almost meekly.

Smiling at her son, Bernie motioned animatedly for him to approach. "Look, it's Olivia!"

As if she expected him to be happy about that.

Jerking into motion, Elliot strode quickly across the playground, his fiery eyes never leaving Olivia's face for a second, his features darkening like thunderclouds. He stopped just before the bench, glaring down at Olivia as if he wished she would disappear.

Olivia wouldn't have minded that either.

"Don't be rude Elliot," Bernie admonished when he didn't speak, sitting up straighter on the bench and fixing her son with a penetrating stare. "You'd think you were five years old and had forgotten your manners. Honestly, I raised you better than that. Say hello."

Elliot shifted his weight from one foot to the other, adjusting the young girl on his shoulders as he did so, his eyes still on Olivia. Finally, grudgingly he spoke, and her heart palpated in response to his deep, resonating, masculine voice. "Hey."

"Hey." Olivia's voice was soft and almost inaudible, but she was just happy anything came out at all.

It was Bernie who completed the introductions while the two former lovers stared at each other silently. "On his shoulders, that's Autumn. She's Julie's youngest, Elliot's niece, my granddaughter."

"Hi." Autumn's green eyes shone as she watched the entire situation unfold, her voice as melodic as wind chimes.

"I can't believe how grown up you are now," Bernie continued, as if completely ignorant to the thick tension squeezing the air. She certainly wasn't though, and all three of them knew it. She had helped her son through that very dark time in his life. "And still every bit as beautiful as you were when you were eighteen."

Bernie reached out to touch Olivia's shiny, soft hair with a crooked finger. "Actually, maybe even more beautiful , don't you think so Elliot?"

"Mom . . ." Elliot intoned warningly, shooting his mother a hard glance as he again shifted the child on his shoulders.

"Well, I really should be going," Olivia blurted out suddenly, desperate to put an end to the growing strain. Standing up, she frantically scanned the area for Chase. "It was nice to see you both again. And it was nice to meet you Autumn."

"Oh, don't run away yet dear!" Bernie cried, reaching out to touch Olivia's arm as she moved to walk away.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Elliot muttered the words under his breath but definitely loud enough for Olivia to hear. She ignored him, focusing her attention on Bernie with a warm smile.

"I really should be going, I-"

"Mom?" Chase's voice stopped her excuse in its tracks and Olivia swiveled to face him, standing curiously off to the side. Bernie and Elliot also turned to take him in and Olivia couldn't help but glance up at Elliot's face, amused at his shocked expression and inappropriately pleased his shock seemed to have put a halt to the smart ass comments.

Olivia had often wondered how much her mother talked about her around town, how much Elliot knew of her life since she had left.

Apparently not much on both counts.

"Chase, these are my . . ." Olivia searched in vain for the right word, then decided there wasn't one that would accurately convey the reality of their relationship. ". . . friends. This is Mrs. Stabler and Elliot and Autumn."

"Hullo," Chase greeted them all quietly, averting his eyes to the ground before flicking them back up to his mom.

"Well, we really should get going," Olivia said briskly, her voice too high-pitched for her own liking. She was nervous, and they all could tell. Olivia smiled at Bernie and tried to smile at Elliot, but the shaky grin wilted under his heavy glare. "It was great to see you all again."

Sliding her arm around Chase's shoulders, Olivia slowly started backing away, eager to escape to somewhere she could breathe a bit better. At that moment her lungs felt constricted, clogged.

But Bernie wasn't ready to let her go.

Rising and taking a step forward, Bernie smiled warmly at the mother and son duo. "It was so nice to see you. I would love to hear all about New York. Why don't you both come over for dinner on Wednesday?"

"Mom!" Elliot snapped harshly, his eyes shooting warningly to his mother, his face turning red under the tan.

Bernie ignored him, her eyes trained on Olivia, awaiting an answer.

"Oh, uh, thank you for the offer, but, I really don't think . . . ." Olivia's voice trailed off and she had to clear her throat to find it again.

"Come on now. I won't take no for an answer!" Bernie's eyes, although not as dark as Elliot's, were no less intense. "I would love to have you over. It would just be me, you, Elliot, Chase, and Julie's three kids. Tom, Julie's husband, will be back to work. We could have a barbeque . . ."

The pleading in her voice did Olivia in. She knew most people in this town considered her cold, and maybe they were right, but she could hardly turn down a woman who had just lost her daughter.

With a quiet sigh, Olivia managed a shaky smile that turned out to be more of a grimace.

"Okay, sure. Dinner sounds good."


	5. Liar

**Chapter 4 – Liar**

It felt good to get dressed up again.

It was cathartic, revitalizing.

There was something utterly satisfying about shimmying into a sexy dress, strapping on a pair of killer heels, and applying a thin layer of makeup. Something exciting about knowing that when you walked into a room people would look, admire. That men would stare and women would scowl.

It made Olivia feel almost human again.

Almost.

The Sly Badger held the dubious honor of being the lone bar in Portside. The squat building sat two blocks away from the beach, its red-brick façade faded and crumbling, the ancient blocks having eroded from constant exposure to the salty sea air. Outside the building, the only identifying mark was a small, unpretentious wooden sign that hung lazily over the entrance, rusted chain squeaking in the evening breeze. The sign itself bore no words, just the black and white face of a badger.

Blink and you would miss it.

The original owner had selected the Badger's location carefully in the hopes parched beachgoers would make the short trek up the street to hydrate themselves after a long day in the sun, but the bar's bread and butter ended up being its evening crowd, a slew of locals that got together almost every night to drink and spread the town gossip.

Tonight was no exception.

The wood paneled interior of the bar was packed and the ambient noise level high when Olivia and Alex strolled through the heavy front door that kept the heat out and the air conditioning in. After a thorough search, they eventually located an unoccupied table, just barely sliding into the seats ahead of another couple who shot them a dirty look before continuing on their way.

"Okay, first drink's on me," Alex declared happily, linking her slender fingers together and resting them on the gleaming wood tabletop. "What'll it be?"

"A beer would be good. Whatever's on tap. Thanks."

As Alex bravely fought her way through the throng toward the bar, Olivia leaned her elbows on the table, brushed her glossy hair out of her eyes, and observed the crowd. She wasn't surprised to find she recognized most of the people milling about, chattering happily. Natives of Portside tended to stay close to home; Olivia was the exception rather than the rule in that respect. Sitting at the tables in her immediate vicinity, she identified several high school classmates, a former teacher, the man who used to maintain the lawn at her mother's estate, the third generation owner of the General Store, and the resident busybody.

The focus of the chatter on that particular night varied and snatches of several different conversations floated through the air toward Olivia as she waited for Alex to return. Several tables were engrossed in the baseball game playing on the mounted televisions around the bar; others spoke in hushed tones about the recent rash of break-ins around town; still others complained impotently about the hike in gas prices.

Scratching her neck absently with painted fingernails, Olivia wondered absently how often she herself had been the topic of heated discussion between these walls.

A brief flash of shiny, sun-kissed blonde hair caught Olivia's attention and she watched Alex squeeze her way up to the bar and greet the man on the other side with a broad smile. Odafin Tutuola, current fourth generation owner of the Sly Badger, smiled back warmly. He hadn't changed much over the last twelve years. He was still fit and healthy, with long black hair he wore slicked back and in a ponytail. His dark goatee lent his face a slightly dangerous look, but his eyes and voice were soft.

After a brief interaction, Alex motioned over her shoulder and Fin automatically followed the gesture. When his eyes met Olivia's, his face darkened and he quickly averted his eyes, his smile wavering only a little. It was a good thing she hadn't been expecting a warm welcome, or she might have been hurt. Fin and Elliot had been, and perhaps remained, good friends.

She wasn't fated to be a popular person in his books.

Whatever his feelings about Olivia, Fin assembled their drinks quickly and passed them over to Alex without ceremony. As Alex turned away from the bar, he watched her until she disappeared into the crowd, a look close to longing ruling his feature.

Ahh, unrequited love. Things in this town really hadn't changed.

"He's still got a thing for you, huh?" Olivia teased as Alex slid back onto the chair beside her, passing the full-to-overflowing beer glass across the table.

"Who, Fin?" Alex glanced over her shoulder toward the bar with a light smile and brief chuckle. "Yeah, maybe."

"I remember him having a huge crush on you in high school."

"Yeah well, I probably didn't do anything to quash that. I slept with him a few times the summer after high school." Alex grinned mischievously, contently sipping her multi-colored martini.

Olivia nearly choked on her beer as she burst out laughing at her incorrigible friend. "You're horrible!"

Sobering a bit, Alex shrugged calmly. "No regrets at all. Fin's a great guy, and good in bed. But then I left for college, ran into Jim on campus, and the rest, as they say, is history!"

Smiling absently, Olivia fell quiet for a moment, a question burning fiercely on the tip of her tongue. She took a sip of beer in an effort to put out that fire, but the question would not be denied. "He, uh, still good friends with Elliot?"

As soon as she asked, Olivia wished she could take it back. She had promised herself she wouldn't mention _him_, wouldn't provide Alex with the segue way she undoubtedly desired to ask further questions, but she couldn't help it.

Glancing at Olivia over the rim of her martini glass, Alex pursed her lips thoughtfully before nodding her head. "Yeah, they are."

The curiosity on Alex's face was almost at peak level, and Olivia knew she wouldn't be able to put off telling her story much longer.

But until then, she had every intention of stalling.

Running her finger down the side of her sweating glass, Olivia cleared her throat. "So . . . tell me about your kids!"

It was remarkable how quickly they fell into old, familiar patterns without skipping a beat. Despite their twelve years apart they slipped back easily into friendly conversation, sharing stories about their children and their lives since they parted. They laughed together at the humorous moments and commiserated over the sad. Alex was every bit as bubbly and intelligent as Olivia remembered and, as they reminisced across the table, Olivia felt a warmth and contentedness she hadn't experienced in a long, long time.

Their easy transition back into a comfortable friendship should have been enough.

But it wasn't.

Before long, Olivia again felt an undeniable pull toward dangerous territory. Her curiosity over Elliot's life since she left was almost insatiable. In their brief phone conversations over the years, her mother hadn't spoken of him at all, and Olivia, coward that she was, had been afraid to ask. She should have, but didn't, afraid of what the answer would be. If he had easily moved on, she would have been devastated. If he hadn't, she would have felt equally as bad.

Either way, the answer would have been hard to stomach.

Leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, Olivia took another sip of her beer and prepared herself to venture into territory she wasn't completely sure she wanted to tread.

"I have to admit, it's been weird to come back and see all these people we went to high school with living their adult lives. Some are pretty much exactly where I thought they would be; others, I wasn't even close." Olivia moderated her tone carefully until she was relatively confident it sounded casual and only mildly interested. "It's interesting to see who realized their dreams and who just seems to have settled."

Taking a deep breath, Olivia dropped her eyes to the rim of her beer glass, readying herself to step off the edge of the cliff. "I always wondered . . . did Elliot go to the Police Academy like he wanted to?"

Leaning back in her chair to match Olivia's phony "carefree" posture, Alex was quiet for a moment, assessing her friend carefully. "Yeah, he did. Graduated with top honors."

Olivia nodded far too quickly and with far too much animation, as if Alex had just confirmed something she had known all along. "That's great, fantastic, good for him." Snapping her motor mouth closed, Olivia winced internally, embarrassed by the sound of her own ramblings.

Eyes never leaving her friend's face, Alex sensed there was something much more pressing on Olivia's mind. "He didn't get married again if that's what you're going to ask next."

Olivia's eyes flickered up for a moment in surprise before dropping back to the table. Biting her bottom lip, she twisted her glass absently on its coaster. "I wasn't-"

Alex cut her off quickly. "You had to be wondering. Just thought I would put you out of your misery."

Olivia chuckled humorlessly, tucking her hair behind her ears. "You always did know me a little too well."

"I thought I did anyway."

That statement could have been harsh, could have been confrontational, but wasn't. It was more inquisitive than blaming. Olivia nodded slowly in silent acknowledgement of that fact, running a fingertip up and down a cut etched in the wood of the bar table.

Feeling the urge to push the boundaries a little, Alex continued. "Don't get me wrong, he did date. A lot, a lot." Alex thought about that for a moment before shaking her head. "Well, maybe date is not the right word. Screwed, really."

It was irrational, inexcusable, and inappropriate, but the thought of Elliot with another woman made Olivia sick to her stomach. Trying to meet Alex's eyes steadily, she forced that emotion away. She had no right to experience it. She had left him and by doing so forfeited all rights to his time, attention, and body.

"Still, he didn't ever get remarried," Alex remarked casually. "He and Kathy Renison actually did date for a while. They've been "on-again, off-again" for years. She broke it off last about six months ago when he refused to commit to anything beyond living together."

At the utterance of Kathy's name, Olivia's chest constricted painfully, and she took a long gulp of her beer to try and cover it. Unwillingly, she mentally flashed back to that day twelve years ago.

_Her side hurt. Hurt really badly. _

_She clutched at it as she half-walked, half-ran down the street. She could feel the blood seeping between her fingers through the thin cotton of her yellow t-shirt. She was scared, and she didn't get scared easily. Her mother's words kept lashing out at her in her head. She tried valiantly to bat them away, but they kept swarming back like a horde of pesky mosquitoes. _

_She mounted the wooden steps that led up to the Stabler's porch as quickly as she could, her breath tight. His mother had gone to visit family overnight with his sister, so he was alone. The light was on in the living room, and she knew he would still be up, waiting for her to return. All she wanted at that moment was to fall against him, to feel his strong arms around her, to feel him cradle her and promise to keep her safe as she knew he would._

_Maybe then the pain in her side would lessen, even if just a little. _

_She let herself into the large Victorian, the screen door closing quietly behind her. She could hear the hum of voices from the living room and chalked it up to the TV. Her sandal-clad feet were silent on the carpet but her breathing sounded loud and raspy to her ears. Her side pained warningly, reminding her to remember it._

_As if she could forget. _

_When she was four feet from the open entrance to the living room, the voices stopped and Olivia assumed he had heard her coming and muted the TV. If she had been thinking clearly, perhaps she would have wondered why he didn't call out a cheery greeting as he usually did._

_But she wasn't thinking clearly. Not at all._

_Rounding the corner that led into the living room, Olivia suddenly slammed on the brakes, her side temporarily forgotten as the breath whooshed straight out of her._

_Elliot sat on the couch, his arm lounging comfortably along the back. Kathy sat beside him, her knee resting against his leg._

_And they were kissing._

"Olivia!" Alex's sharp, insistent voice jolted her back to the present and the horrific final image faded slowly from her mind's eye.

Absorbing the dazed look on her friend's face, Alex spoke again, softer this time. "Are you okay? You just totally zoned out on me."

Leaning back again in her chair, Olivia cleared her throat and tried to relax her stiff shoulders. "Yeah, I'm okay."

_Liar_.

Alex quietly reached across the table and lay a soft hand over her friend's. She sensed that Olivia was vulnerable, crumbling, but she also knew the only way she could help was if she knew the entire story.

"Olivia . . ." Alex waited patiently until Olivia was finally able to look at her, her eyes still fogged and distant. "What really happened that night?"

Leaning forward now in her chair, Olivia drew a shaky but resigned breath, slipping her trembling hands under her legs to steady them. "What are the rumors?"

Alex shook her head, laughing dryly. "Too many to repeat. None worth repeating anyway. How about I tell you what I do know, and you fill in the rest?"

She waited for Olivia's reluctant nod before continuing.

"For your eighteenth birthday, you and Elliot went to Atlantic City for a long weekend. You called me on your way home and told me that the last day you were away you two crazy kids got married. You asked me to keep that exciting news secret. Do you have any idea how hard that was?"

Olivia smiled wryly but said nothing.

"As far as I knew, everything was great between you two. Then at the crack of dawn one morning you call me to come pick you up at home. You toss your suitcase into the backseat of my Jeep and ask me to take you to the train station. You were a mess, almost catatonic, and you begged me not to ask any questions. When we got to the station, you climbed out of the car, told me you needed to get away, gave me a hug, and disappeared from my life." Alex took a slow, thoughtful sip of her martini. "I thought you would come back in a week or so. I really did. But weeks went by, and then months, and then years. And I never saw you again." Clasping her hands in front of her, Alex fixed Olivia with a firm but sympathetic stare. "Liv, for the love of God, what happened that night?"

Defeated, Olivia sighed, knocking back the last of her beer and staring at the glass longingly, wishing it would automatically refill. When it didn't, she stared steadily at her old friend and began speaking so quietly her confession was almost drowned out by the bar noises.

"That night, I decided I wanted to tell my mother we had gotten married. Elliot was really eager for us to start living together. He had told his mother earlier in the day, and she was extremely supportive, welcomed me into their house with open arms." She chuckled bitterly at the memory. "I should have known my mother would not be nearly as understanding or excited."

Olivia glanced around the bar briefly, as if worried about being overheard, before continuing slowly. "To say my mother was not happy is an understatement. She had already been drinking naturally. I foolishly thought that might help, that she might be mellower. Not at all. She completely freaked out, flew into a rage. Started screaming at me, throwing things at me." Olivia shook her head as the scene replayed like a movie in her mind. "She kept ranting, cursing, insisting that I was lying, that no man would ever want to hitch his life to mine. Then, as if she hadn't just called me a liar, she started claiming that Elliot would divorce me as soon as he came to his senses. In retrospect, I think she was jealous."

Olivia shook her head slowly, depressed at the unfortunate memory of her last in-person conversation with her mother. "But I could handle that. The name calling, the put downs. I was used to that. But then she got really ugly."

Olivia took a deep breath and Alex watched her eyes grow even more distant.

"That summer, Elliot was working for her, doing repairs around the house. Fixing the roof, putting up a fence, painting the exterior, finishing the basement, things like that."

Alex nodded, speaking softly so as to not detract from the story too much. "I remember. She was paying him a lot of money, wasn't she? I remember him being over the moon about it."

Olivia acknowledged that with a brief nod of her head. "Yeah, she was. Better money than he would have made in any other full-time job that summer. He needed a really good job to be able to afford to go to the Academy. His father had gotten sick the year before and his family had sunk most of their money into his care. With the money he was making at my mom's, he would have been able to go to the Academy and even leave a bit behind for his family to help out while he was gone. It was perfect. He was so excited that his dream was actually going to happen."

Olivia shook her head sadly. "Unfortunately my mother didn't care about any of that when she was drunk. She threatened to fire him. Said that she wouldn't support him corrupting her daughter and putting foolish ideas of romance into her head. She insisted she wouldn't allow him to come anywhere near the house anymore."

Pausing for a moment, Olivia waved her hand dismissively as if to whisk away the entire situation. "Anyway, it was just a gigantic mess. I was furious that she was threatening to fire him. I knew if she did he would never be able to afford to go to the Academy. I started yelling back. Hateful, hurtful things. Before I knew what happened, she had broken a wine bottle over the counter and stabbed me in the side with it." Olivia absently let her hand slip down to where the scar was, hidden under the fabric of her dress.

Completely absorbed in the story, Alex leaned forward, the ice in her drink melting from neglect, her blue eyes wide with compassion. "Liv, that's horrible. I knew you were in pain, I just couldn't tell if it was physical or emotional."

"Both." Olivia shook her head, her voice hardening. "It gets worse. I ran out of the house and stumbled over to Elliot's, bleeding all the way, scared to death. I let myself into his house and ran into him in the living room. On the couch. With Kathy. Kissing."

Alex gasped, her hand flying reflexively to her mouth. "No!"

Olivia shrugged as if it still didn't kill her to remember it. "I backtracked a few steps, and made sure to make a lot of noise as I approached the room the second time. By then the kiss had ended. When I stumbled into the room, Elliot came to me and Kathy slunk out."

"What did Elliot say when you asked him about the kiss?"

Olivia shrugged again. "I didn't. I was in shock. We had only been married five days and he was kissing another woman. It was like everything my mother had said was coming true. All I could think while he was taking care of me was that she was right. He was going to leave me. That we would never last."

Olivia sighed, running a weary hand through her hair. "That thought killed me. Combine that with my fear he would lose the job he needed so badly, and I felt I had to leave. Now I would have handled it differently. I would have confronted him about it, but I was young then, only eighteen. I didn't know what else to do. So after he fell asleep I snuck out, left him a note on my pillow, went home, packed, and called you." Olivia shrugged, pinging the glass with her fingernail to produce a melodic tone. "And your story picks up from there."

Alex sat silently, stunned, unsure of what to say. She opened her mouth several times but then closed it again, unable to find sufficient words.

"I'm so sorry Liv" was the best she could do.

Olivia shrugged for the millionth time as if she didn't care, but her face was pale and she suddenly looked beyond exhausted. "It's not your fault."

Alex squeezed her friend's hand tightly, running her thumb over the other woman's knuckles comfortingly. "Liv, I don't profess to know what happened with Elliot and Kathy, but there is one thing that I am absolutely one hundred percent sure of. That man loved you with all of his heart and soul. There is no way he would have cheated on you. Maybe it wasn't what it looked like . . ."

Olivia lifted her eyebrows mildly and Alex ended that line of thought abruptly. Really, what else could it have been?

"Regardless Liv, I'm so sorry. For everything you had to go through. It must have been very hard on you."

Feeling the tears she had been fighting since she began the story threaten the corners of her eyes, Olivia bit her lip hard before shrugging and arranging a look of disinterest on her features. "Whatever. It's for the best. Obviously we weren't meant to be."

Pushing back her chair suddenly, Olivia stood up, brushing imaginary lint off her black dress.

"I need another beer."

* * *

Nothing much ever happened in Portside.

It had taken less than two months for Jake Silver to figure that out when he had relocated to the area two years ago. Professionally, that was a good thing. As the sole Deputy Sherriff, the less that happened around town, the better.

Personally, it was boring as hell.

Born and bred in Chicago, Jake was way more city than country. Still, when his great aunt had told him about a job opening in Portside, he had jumped at the opportunity. As a rookie fresh out of the Academy, he had decided to take the first option available, even if it wasn't necessarily the best one. Now he was paying the price. Twenty-five years old, living with his eighty-eight year old great aunt in an old slum of a house on Cedar Street, single, with nothing to do on his Friday night but sit along the bar at the only tavern in town and listen to the locals gossip like a bunch of nosy old biddies.

Still, it could have been worse. He lived rent-free, and was amassing a decent chunk of savings. The Sherriff was a good guy to work under. Weekend work was minimal and he never feared for his life when he got up to go to work every morning. The beach was nice, the swimming fantastic, and the beer at the Sly Badger was cold.

So what if he didn't have much of a social life?

"I'll have a Miller Genuine and a Candy Apple Martini please."

An unfamiliar voice floated through the air as a woman sidled up to the bar beside Jake, the hint of her perfume attracting his attention. He turned his head slightly in an effort to check her out without being too obvious and immediately felt his mouth go dry. The woman waiting beside him, staring up at the TV that hung over the bar, was gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous. Her dark, mahogany hair fell straight and loose past her shoulders, its caramel-colored highlights accentuating her flawless olive skin. Her lips were full and her dark eyes were deep and intelligent. He thought he had met everyone in this town, but he had never seen her before.

He would have remembered if he had.

The female bartender returned quickly, sliding the drinks across the bar toward the mystery woman. When she reached out to pay, Jake beat her to it, passing a bill across the counter. There was no way this vision was paying for her own drink. Her date should have been shot for making her go get it herself in the first place. "The martini is on me Sarah."

The woman turned slightly to glance at him curiously, a smile quirking up at the corner of her lips. She paid for the beer and grabbed both glasses, her eyes still observing him with amusement. "I'm sure my friend will appreciate you buying her drink. Who should I say it's from?"

Jake frowned, his freckled face scrunching. "Your friend? I thought-"

The woman interrupted him with a light laugh as she motioned to one of the tables on the far side of the room. Glancing over, Jake caught sight of Alex Collins looking their way, an amused expression on her pretty face. "The beer is mine actually."

Hot _and_ she liked beer. It was his lucky day.

"I'm Jake. It's nice to meet you." Jake held out his hand, realizing belatedly that hers were full of glasses, leaving her with no recourse but to look down at the offered hand. Dropping it quickly, he blushed to the roots of his red hair and the vision laughed again.

"I'm Olivia."

"Hard to believe in such a small town we haven't met before today."

"I just got here a few days ago." Olivia's eyes darted over to her waiting friend and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Sensing she was eager to return, Jake tried to stall, equally as eager to keep the conversation going. He needed to build up the courage to ask her out.

"A new addition to the town, that's great! New blood is always refreshing in small towns." _God, he sounded like an idiot._

"Kind of," Olivia replied, mildly amused by his weak attempt to chat her up. He was cute, in a young sort of way, with bright red hair and freckles. "I was actually born and raised here, but left for a while. I'm just back for a few months."

Jake was momentarily disappointed, but that emotion passed quickly. He wasn't looking for a long-term relationship anyway. He just really, really needed to get laid, and it had been ages since he had seen a woman as attractive as Olivia.

"I should get back. Nice talking to you Jake." Olivia smiled lightly and headed back to the table where Alex waited, watching Jake with a smirk.

"Nice talking to you too Olivia." Jake wasn't sure if she heard him over the other voices in the busy bar, but it didn't really matter. He watched her squeeze through the crowd, admiring the way her toned body looked in the slinky short black dress she had on.

She had killer curves.

Swiveling back around on his bar stool, Jake took a long pull on his beer and debated his next move. She was gorgeous, and he was horny, but she wasn't the kind of woman to fall for a pick-up line. He would need more information to win this one over.

When Fin Tutuola worked his way down the bar to send Sarah on her break, Jake raised a hand and caught his attention.

"Hey Fin, you know everyone in this town, right?" Jake asked casually, fiddling with his coaster before grabbing a handful of peanuts.

Wiping an already shiny glass with the towel hanging over his shoulder, Fin raised his eyebrows with interest. "Pretty much. Why, who do you want the dirt on?"

Jake tipped his head in the direction of Alex and Olivia's table. "The brunette sitting with Alex Collins. Olivia. You know much about her?"

Jake could have sworn he saw the glimmer of a scowl flit across Fin's face but he pushed it away so quickly that Jake was left wondering if he had imagined it.

"Some," was Fin's deliberately vague reply. "What you wanna know?"

"Well, there's no ring, so I'm going to assume she's not married. She seeing anyone? I was thinking of trying to get her number."

Fin regarded Jake for a moment, keeping his face intentionally blank. Slowly, he lowered the clean glass to the ledge behind the bar before speaking again. "That I don't know. She just got back into town a few days ago. You don't want to go there man."

"Why not?" Jake asked, frowning slightly. Then it hit him like a lightning bolt. "Ahh, I'm stepping on your toes."

Fin snorted. "Me? Hell no. No way. She's a harpy, man. Nothing but trouble."

Jake grinned mischievously at his comrade. "I believe you, but even if she is trouble, she's the kind I wouldn't mind getting into, if you know what I mean."

Jake knew Fin well enough to know that normally a comment like that would have elicited a hearty laugh. When it didn't, Jake suddenly felt uneasy. He glanced back at the table, watching Olivia and Alex talk, until Fin spoke again.

"Look dude, you don't want to get mixed up with her. That's your boss' ex-wife."

A jolt of shock jarred Jake's insides and his jaw dropped. "Stabler's ex-wife? Are you serious? I didn't know he was ever married. I thought his last girlfriend just dumped him a few months ago because he was a commitment-phobe?"

Fin nodded his head in Olivia's direction. "He is. And there's the reason."

* * *

"He was totally trying to pick you up," Alex chuckled, picking away at the bowl of peanuts sitting on the table. Her manicured fingernails plucked one out and she carefully examined it before popping it into her mouth.

"He's a goof," Olivia grinned, the memory of their awkward conversation still fresh with detail. "He's cute though. And it's been a long time since I went on a date. How young do you think he is?"

Alex laughed. "And you called me horrible. He's not that young. I'd say mid-twenties or so."

"Hmm. He'll probably freak out when he learns I have a kid. Still, he's a possibility." Olivia craned her neck to watch him at the bar, chatting with Fin. He was kind of cute. A summer fling. Maybe just the thing to get her mind off of _him_. "I'm sure I've dated worse."

"Exactly how long's it been since your last date?" Alex inquired, snagging another peanut, her smiling eyes on her friend.

Olivia shrugged, grabbing a handful of peanuts and piling them on the table in front of her. "Probably about two years. I went out with someone shortly after my last divorce, but it only lasted a few months."

"You don't talk much about your ex-husbands."

Olivia sighed, her attention focused on the table as she arranged the peanuts into an abstract pattern.

"Not much to say really. I'm not good at the whole marriage thing obviously."

She was expecting another question, so when one didn't come, Olivia glanced up curiously to see Alex's attention focused over her shoulder, an odd expression on her face.

"What is it?" Olivia asked, frowning slightly as she twisted to see what had entranced Alex. She caught sight of Elliot almost immediately, squeezing through the crowd toward the bar, nodding his head politely at those he passed. He looked good, really good, in a pair of dark jeans and a dress shirt, the top few buttons undone in deference to the day's heat, revealing a small thatch of thin chest hair.

"Great," Olivia muttered bitterly, twisting back around in her chair and gazing down at her peanut art. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest and she was finding it difficult to breathe suddenly in the close confines of the bar. Alex glanced at her and the intense pain on Olivia's face at just the sight of him was unmistakable.

It shouldn't have hurt that bad for her. Not after so long. Unless . . .

Unless there were still strong feelings there.

Leaning forward, Alex gazed intently at Olivia across the table. "You should tell him Liv."

"Tell him what?" Olivia muttered, as if she wasn't already certain of the answer. She refused to make eye contact with Alex, keeping her gaze instead on the table before her.

"What you told me. About what happened that night."

"What good would that do?"

Alex sighed irritably. Olivia knew very well what good that would do, and playing stupid was not a good look for her. "Well, it would be some closure for both of you for one."

"It's not going to change what happened."

"No, of course not, but at least he would know the real reason why you left. And you would get your much deserved explanation and apology for his irrational, inexcusable behavior with Kathy."

Shoulders tense, Olivia sighed violently, meeting her friend's gaze with fiery eyes. "Leave it alone Alex. I mean it. It's done."

* * *

"There's the reason for what?"

A deep voice resonating behind him made Jake jump visibly. Fin appeared equally uneasy as Elliot pulled out the stool beside Jake and plopped himself down on it, dumping his car keys on the oak bar with a sigh.

"Hey Chief. Office closed up for the night?" Jake stammered, turning his attention back to the beer in front of him.

"All closed up. Just wanted to take a last look at some of my notes from the last break-in again."

Crime in Portside was extremely rare. Aside from the occasional drunk who had to be held until he sobered up and a random crime of passion, there was little for the small two-man Sherriff's Department to do. Over the last few months however there had been a string of violent break-ins with considerable property damage. The culprit almost always struck when the residents had gone out and had been extremely careful to leave no obvious physical evidence. Elliot's inability to apprehend the culprit had been a source of significant frustration for him and the townsfolk who wondered what was happening in their peaceful little town.

Glancing around the room before tipping his head thankfully at the glass of light pilsner Fin offered, Elliot rolled up his sleeves and settled his muscled forearms on the bar. "Any interesting scuttlebutt in here tonight?"

Fin and Jake glanced at each other hesitantly for a moment before Fin elected to take the leap. "Just to give you a heads-up, Olivia's here."

Elliot immediately stiffened, his grip going vice-tight around his beer glass. It took him a full minute to force himself to relax again. "Christ, it's like she's following me around. I ran into her a few days ago at the park with my mom and Autumn.

"Well, technically you came in here after her, so you know that the rumor around town tomorrow will be that you're following her," Fin remarked wryly, polishing another glass absently as he watched his good friend.

Elliot chuckled darkly before shaking his head in resigned disbelief. "Yeah, probably. Can you believe my mom actually invited her over for dinner? She's the sweetest woman, my mom, but sometimes I wonder what the heck she's thinking."

"She always did have a soft spot for Olivia," Fin murmured neutrally, setting down the glass and leaning back against the liquor cabinet.

"Yeah, didn't we all," muttered Elliot bitterly, taking a long pull of his beer.

"I didn't know you were married," Jake began cautiously, focusing on his sweating beer glass to avoid his boss' eyes.

Elliot glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but kept his gaze primarily directed at the TV screen above the bar. "Only for about a week. It was stupid. Bad judgment on my part."

Taking a small sip of his drink, Jake weighed his words carefully. He was not insensitive to the dangers of irritating his boss, but at the same time, he hadn't had sex since arriving in Portside two years ago. The whole celibacy thing was wearing a bit thin. Almost every woman in Portside was married, in a long-term relationship, too young, or too old for him. His options were extremely limited. Had they not been, maybe he would have let it go.

Or maybe not. Olivia was far too attractive to just walk away from.

"So things are over between you, you would say?"

Jake heard Fin grunt a warning, but he ignored it. He was committed now. If Stabler told him to back off, he would, but he didn't much sound like he gave a damn.

Elliot turned to look at him more steadily now, his eyes narrowing slightly. Jake noticed he was very careful not to glance anywhere else, as if he was afraid to see Olivia even by accident. "Yeah, I would definitely say that. Why?"

"Well, I was thinking . . . I'd like to get her number. You know, ask her out?" Jake started out slowly but the rest of his explanation rushed out as if released from a flood gate. "But only if you are okay with that. Being as she's your ex and all."

Jake felt himself tense as Elliot stiffened visibly for the second time that night. Tension emanated from his powerful shoulders and for a second Jake wondered if Elliot was going to hit him. The emotion that lurked on his face was hard to identify, but it only lasted a moment before a blank expression replaced it and Elliot turned his attention back to the TV.

"I don't care. She means nothing to me anymore. If you want to torture yourself, go for it." Elliot drained his beer quickly and dropped his empty glass back on the bar with a loud thud. Grabbing his car keys, he pushed his stool back abruptly and stood up. "I've got to take off. If you want her Jake, she's all yours. But trust me, she's far more trouble than she's worth.


	6. Elephant

_A/N – Special thanks again to Sitarra. Without her, this chapter would not have taken shape._

**Chapter 5 - Elephant**

At first, there had been one a month.

Soon after, that statistic changed to one break-in every two weeks before graduating to one a week.

Now, most recently, there had been three break-ins in the last two weeks. For the small town of Portside, that was a new record. Most break-ins ever in the history of the town. On his watch.

Not something Elliot planned to include on his resume.

If that new record wasn't bad enough, as the frequency increased, so had the damage. The perp, whoever he was, was escalating.

Running a meaty hand over his face, Elliot sighed loudly and leaned back, his desk chair creaking in protest under the pressure. A quick, irritable glance out the window informed him that he was losing out on a beautiful summer day trying to nab this hump. The mid-afternoon sun shone brightly, twinkling cheerfully off the glass of his home office window. Outside, the trees shimmied gently, their bright green leaves whispering together in the soft breeze. As always, the steady roar of the ocean carried over the dunes sitting just beyond the Stabler's backyard, punctuated occasionally by the calls of a few gulls canvassing for their dinner. The salty air was fresh, warm, and tainted with the odor of hamburgers cooking on the large gas grill.

He really needed to go flip those burgers before they burnt.

Leaning forward again, Elliot stared down blankly at the large maple desk that commandeered most of the floor space in the small den that served as his home office. Normally, the shiny top of the desk was bare. Thanks to Portside's low crime rate, Elliot was usually able to finish all his work during regular work hours in his much larger office at the Sherriff's Department.

But not lately. Not since the break-ins started.

Today, the desk was littered with all the photographs and statements related to the robberies that he had amassed over the last six months. Descriptions of missing pieces, statements from folks who had been home in neighboring houses and yet heard nothing, reports from the closest crime scene lab miles away, they were all there.

He had a lot of information, but none of it helped him a damn.

Outside, the lid of the barbecue squeaked and Elliot heard a spatula sliding against the metal grill.

"Mom, I can do that!" he called out guiltily, rising and stretching before casting one last disparaging look at the forest of dead trees on his desk.

"It's okay dear. I've got it. You're busy," his mother replied cheerfully, her voice carrying in on the breeze through the open window. She whistled as she worked and Elliot couldn't help but smile. It did his heart good to see her so happy after several long weeks of steady sadness. Bernie loved to entertain and the improvement in her spirits at the prospect was blatantly obvious.

Elliot would have been happy too, if only she had chosen someone else to entertain.

Anyone else.

Closing the office door securely behind him, Elliot strode out through the living room and onto the back patio, clenching and unclenching his fists in an effort to relax the tense muscles. The sun's natural light was bright, forcing him to squint as he inhaled a deep breath of salty sea air and tried to clear his muddled mind.

Sunglasses perched on the top of her graying head, Bernie stood beside the barbecue, humming to herself as she flipped the thick burgers one by one. The delicious aroma of cooking meat was potent and Elliot's stomach rumbled gruffly, reminding him he had missed lunch in his preoccupation with solving the robberies.

"How's it going?" Bernie smiled warmly at her son as he approached, her light summer dress flapping in the breeze, her hair pulled back into a neat bun.

"It's going," Elliot grunted, removing the small metal spatula from her hands and deftly flipping the remaining burgers. The reddish juices sizzled and steamed as they made contact with the hot barbecue below.

Bernie dropped a comforting hand onto her son's broad back. "You'll figure it out Elliot. I know you will."

Elliot grunted again, pressing the spatula down on one of the burgers far harder than was strictly necessary. "If I don't, I'm going to be out of a job. People in this town will start calling for my head soon."

"The people here know you are doing everything you can," murmured Bernie, patting his shoulder reassuringly. "It will all work out in the end."

"I hope so," Elliot grumbled, dropping the spatula onto the ledge beside the barbecue before closing the lid with a creak. When he turned to face her, Bernie reached up and affectionately caressed his cheek, smiling at him softly.

"Now you promised you would be on your best behavior today," she reminded him mildly, running her thumb over his rough cheek. "You still plan to abide by that, right?"

Elliot sighed, rubbing his neck absently as he grabbed a nearby towel to wipe his hands."Yes Mother."

"Good!"

Satisfied with that answer, Bernie patted him on the cheek and dropped her hands to her hips as she turned to survey the patio. The large picnic table that had been a fixture there for as long as Elliot could remember was now covered with a cheery, patterned tablecloth that crinkled in the wind. Place settings for seven dotted the plastic covering with weighted objects holding down each corner. A small radio sat on the bistro table beside the sliding door, blasting oldies from the only station that one could get reception for in Portside. On the wooden overhang, multi-colored patio lanterns dangled, ready for use once the sun went down.

Bernie clapped her hands together happily. "I think we're just about ready!"

And not a moment too soon.

"Hello!"

A familiar voice rang out from around the far side of the house, and both Bernie and Elliot turned to watch Olivia and her son emerge. While Bernie waved enthusiastically, Elliot felt his entire body tense involuntarily in what was apparently his new, natural reaction to Olivia's presence.

Olivia looked beautiful, as always. Her dark hair was swept up into a clip, the few remaining loose tendrils twisting in the breeze. Her skin was tanned, having made an effortless transition back to the bright sun that dominated most summer days in Portside. Her light, flowery summer dress clung flatteringly to her curves and her flip flops showcased slender feet and painted toenails.

But as usual, it was her smile that did him in, that made his heart pound and his stomach ache.

As they approached the patio, Chase lagged a few feet behind uncertainly, the expression on his solemn face wary. He was the splitting image of Olivia in almost every way. Same dark hair, same dark eyes, same coloring. Despite the physical similarities, Elliot had been shocked when he heard Chase address Olivia as "Mom" that day in the park. Maybe it was because he had last seen Olivia when she was eighteen, naïve, and inexperienced in so many ways, but Elliot struggled to imagine Olivia as a mother, even now.

Ironic perhaps, given he had had every intention at one point of starting a family with her.

Watching Olivia greet his mom with a one-armed hug, Elliot reflected glumly that she must not have wasted any time getting over him after she left. Chase had to be nine or ten, meaning she must have found someone and gotten pregnant not long after she left.

Perhaps even while she was still officially married to him.

"Thanks for having us!"

Olivia's too-cheerful voice interrupted Elliot's thoughts and drew him back into the present. He realized abruptly that he was still staring at her, and when he noticed her returning the gaze he quickly averted his eyes.

"Oh, it's our pleasure dear!" Bernie gushed, clasping her hands together merrily, her deep eyes twinkling.

"I brought macaroni salad." Smilingly cautiously, Olivia held out a bowl heaped with creamy macaroni, pale tuna, multi-colored peppers, and fresh celery.

As if on cue, Elliot's stomach growled loudly and both Olivia and his mother laughed. His ears flushing red, Elliot felt a flash of irritation. He absolutely loved her macaroni salad, and Olivia knew it. She had made it for him many times the summer he worked for her mother. They ate lunch together often that summer, reveling in the time alone. Serena was usually either still in bed sleeping off a hangover or had gone into town, providing the young lovebirds with a moment together without her scrutiny. Elliot had fond memories of his lunch breaks that summer. Their first time had been during one of those lunch breaks, when, after much cajoling on her part, he had taken her virginity on her small single bed.

Three weeks later, she was gone.

Now she was using that damn salad to try and manipulate his feelings. A pitiful peace offering. Well, it wouldn't work, Elliot promised himself as he watched his mother and Olivia step inside to put the salad in the fridge until dinner.

He was long past the ability to forgive.

Suddenly remembering he was not alone on that sunny concrete patio, Elliot dropped his gaze to the young boy standing quietly a few feet away, staring at the ground.

"Hi Chase. I never really introduced myself properly. I'm Elliot." Elliot offered his hand and, after a second or two of consideration, Chase reached out and shook it weakly.

"Hi."

Shifting his weight, Elliot motioned down to the book that Chase clutched in his other hand. "What're you reading?"

Slowly, Chase lifted the book and stared at the cover, as if he himself wasn't sure of the answer to that question. "James and the Giant Peach."

Elliot smiled. "I read that too when I was a young boy."

Chase scoffed at that claim. "No you didn't."

Taken aback, Elliot frowned, his dark brows furrowing. "How do you know?"

Chase shrugged, still avoiding eye contact. "You're a jock. Jocks don't read. Jocks make fun of people who read."

Elliot felt a flash of sympathy for the thin young boy. "Well, I do like sports, but I also like to read. You can't paint all jocks with the same brush."

"Why not? They treat all us nerds the same." The question was so brutally honest and largely irrefutable that Elliot struggled to generate an acceptable answer.

"Well, I may have been a jock in school, but I never made fun of people who liked to read." Elliot smiled distantly at a memory. "Your mom used to really like to read."

Elliot remembered seeing Olivia in her freshman year, wandering the high school hallway with her nose in a book. He knew that she was a friend of Julie's, had seen her around on occasion, but that day marked the first time he actually _noticed_ her. As a senior, he had taken a lot of razzing from his friends for being interested in the introverted freshman, but he couldn't help it. He was captivated.

"Yeah well, she doesn't read anymore," muttered Chase, flipping the pages of his book absently. "She's too busy now to read, and too sad. But she thinks I'm the one who has the problems, just because I don't like to hang out with people."

For a brief moment, Elliot felt a pang of sympathy for Olivia, but he pushed it away quickly and forcefully. There was no one in the world less deserving of his sympathy than her.

"Well, it is important to have friends too," Elliot hedged carefully. "And grown-ups do sometimes get really busy, and don't have a lot of time to read."

"I'll always have time to read," Chase insisted vehemently, his eyes blazing with passion for the first time since Elliot had met him. Just as quickly as it rose however, the passion faded and a look of sadness replaced it. "And I'll always get bullied for that I guess."

Sighing, Chase shrugged lightly in defeat. "Oh well. Who cares?"

In that moment, Elliot felt a surge of protective instinct that he had only felt before around Julie's kids. Reaching over, he clapped a large hand over one of Chase's bony shoulders.

Surprised at the sudden, unexpected contact, Chase looked up and met Elliot's eyes for the first time as Elliot spoke with complete conviction.

"Stick with me Chase, and I'll make sure no one ever bullies you again."

* * *

To say dinner was awkward would be the understatement of the century.

You couldn't have cut the tension with a machete.

The bright sun was losing some of its luster and slowly inching toward the horizon when all seven of them finally sat down at the picnic table for dinner. The checkered tablecloth no longer needed weights on the corners to hold it still. It was now immobilized by a legitimate feast: plates of hamburgers, bowls brimming with French fries, three types of salad, corn, beans, soda for the kids and wine for the adults.

Hair blowing in the breeze, Bernie sat at one end of the table while Elliot manned the other. Olivia sat to Bernie's right, with Chase beside her acting as a buffer between her and Elliot. Julie's three children, Autumn, Joseph Junior, and Cyndi all lined the wooden bench on the other side.

For what felt like a long time to everyone seated around the table, the whisper of the leaves, the rumble of the ocean, and the hum of chewing were the only sounds. Heads down, everyone appeared to be focused on their own plate, when in reality they were hyper aware of those around them, wondering who would be the brave one to break the silence. Even the children were uncharacteristically quiet, their eyes flitting back and forth between the adults under hooded eyelids, curious about the faceless tension that sat heavily around the table.

It was Bernie who finally broke the silence.

Placing her half eaten hamburger back on her plate, Bernie swallowed before smiling warmly at Chase. "So Chase, tell me about school? What's your favorite class?"

His fork paused halfway to his mouth, Chase paled when he realized everyone's eyes were on him, faces curious, awaiting his answer. Swallowing hard, he carefully placed his fork back down on his plate and cleared his throat.

"School sucks."

Elliot burst out laughing, his deep chuckle echoing in the air and dissolving the other three kids into a fit of giggles. Stomping a foot under the table, Bernie tossed a warning glance Elliot's way, and while he successfully managed to halt the laughter, he couldn't wipe the wide grin off his face.

"Chase!" Olivia admonished, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she turned to glare at her son. "Don't be rude!"

"Why not? He's right," Elliot muttered, his eyes returning to his plate while an amused smile danced on his lips. "School does suck."

"Elliot!" Bernie snapped, motioning meaningfully but silently to the children who were now giving Elliot their full attention. Acknowledging his lapse in judgment with a reluctant nod of his head, Elliot turned to look seriously at his nieces and nephew.

"School is very important though. You need to get a good education. Elementary school, high school, college, the works."

"Did you go to college Uncle Elliot?" Autumn piped up, her light eyebrows furrowing over green eyes.

"I went to a kind of college. It's where I learned how to be a Sherriff."

"Did you Olivia?" Autumn tilted her head slightly in interest, the sun bearing down gently on her angelic features.

"I did. At college, I learned how to help people who have had bad things happen in their lives."

"I want to go to college to be a doctor," Autumn mused cheerfully as she maneuvered a big scoopful of macaroni salad toward her mouth, losing some of the slippery noodles in the process.

Not to be outdone by her younger sister, Cyndi threw in her two cents as well. "I'm going to be a famous writer. But you don't have to go to school for that."

"That's not necessarily true," Bernie informed her gently, grabbing the bowl of macaroni salad and heaping another huge helping onto her plate. "It can be good to go to college and take courses for writing too. To develop your style."

Olivia watched Bernie idly as she slid the salad bowl back onto the table. She wondered mildly if Bernie was trying to overcompensate for the fact that Elliot had purposely taken none of her salad, passive-aggressively passing the bowl on as if it wasn't his absolute favorite salad. Olivia knew it was; that was why she had made it.

The oldest of Julie's three children, Joe, seemed thoughtful as he lay his fork down beside his plate, his blonde hair almost white in the summer sun. "I want to go into real estate like Dad. You can make a lot of money doing that, and I'm going to be rich."

"You can make a lot of money doing that if you are good at it," Elliot agreed, reaching for another piece of bright yellow corn. "Your dad does very well for himself."

"How about you Chase?" Bernie asked gently, her kind eyes watching the quiet young boy carefully. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Olivia glanced over at her son, who was wringing his hands in his lap nervously. Knowing that he hated being centered out, she opened her mouth to change the subject, when to her surprise he actually answered.

"I don't know," Chase replied honestly, his eyes on his hands while his teeth worried his bottom lip. "My dad is a lawyer, so I kind of want to be a lawyer too. But I don't think I would be very good at it. I get really nervous when I talk in front of people."

Her son's frank admission of his weakness touched her heart, and Olivia felt a lump form in her throat. Chase was so special, so sensitive, and her need to protect him, shelter him, was almost overwhelming. "You don't have to do what your dad does honey. There are lots of other jobs out there."

Chase shrugged, picking up his fork and poking at the remnants of the salad on his plate. "I guess. But that's kind of what I want to do."

"When you go to court though honey, you need to be able to talk in front of people, sometimes a lot of people. Would you be comfortable doing that?" Olivia reached over and gently brushed the hair out of his eyes.

Chase looked down at his plate and shook his head slowly. "No."

"Your dad is really good at talking in front of people, that's why he's a good lawyer." Olivia chuckled, more than a little bitterly. "That's one thing Phil was extremely good at. He could talk his way out of pretty much anything."

At the mention of the name, Elliot's head jerked up and he stared at Olivia across the table, his brow furrowing and his lips dipping into a frown. "Phil? Phillip?"

Olivia swallowed hard, suddenly realizing she had said something she shouldn't have, but it was too late now. "Yes. Phillip."

"His last name Marchant?" Elliot's voice was rough with barely suppressed anger.

Olivia sighed. His memory never failed to amaze her. He was as bad as an elephant. "Yes."

Elliot dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clatter that made almost everyone at the table jump. "Unbelievable. You were fu- . . . sleeping with your divorce attorney?"

Elliot didn't need her to answer to know it was true. He would never forget that name. He had stared at it during many a sleepless night. That name had been on the last page of the divorce papers that had come to him by mail, as Olivia's legal counsel. It had taken him a full week to sign those papers, although it shouldn't have. By that point she had been gone for almost a full year. Although they were still officially married, in Elliot's heart their actual marriage had ended after she left. Still, making it official was painfully hard, and he had stared blankly at the pages for days and days. Memorized them word for word before lifting the pen to sign. To let her go.

Irreconcilable differences his ass. He would have reconciled anything.

Olivia opened her mouth to respond to his accusation, but Bernie interrupted, voice hard and eyes steely as she glared at her son. "Elliot! The children! Honestly."

Snapping out of his angry trance, Elliot's face softened a little and he tore his eyes from Olivia's face to look at the faces of the children around him. Joe, Cyndi, and Autumn were all gaping at him, surprised by the outburst and uncomfortable with the sudden reappearance of the suffocating tension. Chase just stared down at his plate.

"Sorry," Elliot muttered, directing the apology only at the children and his mother.

For a long moment, the table drifted back into the still silence from which it had only recently emerged. Chase and Olivia both stared down at their plates, any remaining appetite lost. Bernie kept her reproachful eyes on Elliot as he stabbed at his food and the other three children resumed eating slowly, still trying to process what had just transpired.

This time it was Elliot who broke the silence.

"Chase." The young boy's head jerked up reflexively at the sound of his name. His chocolate eyes met Elliot's sky blue ones and Chase was almost unnerved by the ferocious certainty that dominated the older man's features.

Placing his fork down, Elliot leaned forward and his face softened almost imperceptibly as he spoke. "You can be anything in this world you want to be. Don't let anyone tell you any differently. Not your mom. Not your dad. Not the kids at school. Not me. And not yourself."

* * *

The view from the upper balcony of the Stabler home was absolutely breathtaking.

The wooden railing-lined platform coasted along the back of the second floor of the large Victorian and offered an outstanding perspective of the glistening ocean, currently swelling lazily in the strong breeze. The sun was setting, its orange glow reflecting warmly in the water, and the sandy beach was quiet, most visitors having drifted away as the sun vacated the sky. The air was laced with salt, and it tickled Olivia's nose as she leaned against the railing, lost in her own thoughts.

She had survived dinner, but not without scars.

The last few hours had been emotionally draining. The tension around that picnic table had been palpable, and everything she ate seemed to stick in her throat. Her efforts to escape immediately afterward were thwarted by Bernie's unrelenting insistence that she stay for a cup of coffee. The kids, eager to escape the oppressive tension, had all begged Elliot to take them down to the beach, and he had easily acquiesced, undoubtedly eager to put as much distance between him and her as possible. Thanks to her bird's eye view, Olivia could see all five of them now, flying bright kites against the darkening sky.

Joe had quickly gotten his large kite up into the air, and Cyndi watched him in awe as he maneuvered it higher and higher, the colorful fabric flapping loudly in the wind. Autumn stood off to the side, twirling in circles and drawing in the sand while Elliot helped Chase untangle the twisted line of the second kite. The wind had cooled since dinner and Olivia shivered a bit, the hair on her arms standing at attention as she rubbed at them absently.

"You'll catch cold out here."

Bernie's words registered in Olivia's ears just as she felt the soft fabric of a sweater slide over her shoulders. Olivia drew the welcome material tighter around her and turned to smile gratefully at Bernie and her offered cup of steaming coffee. Curling her fingers around the warm ceramic mug, Olivia returned her attention to the rumbling ocean.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful it was here," Olivia remarked idly, sipping the steaming java and relishing the resulting warmth that trickled into her veins.

Bernie nodded in agreement, her eyes dropping to observe the figures playing on the beach. "It sure is. After so many years here, I can't imagine living anywhere else. It just wouldn't be the same."

"It's certainly nothing like New York," Olivia concurred, the corner of her lip twitching up into a gentle half-smile. "It's so busy there. I love the energy, the culture, the diversity. But here, it's so . . . peaceful. Restful."

The two women fell silent, their eyes following the action as Elliot, Chase, and Autumn tried again to get the second kite into the air. Chase sprinted down the beach, kicking up sand under his heels and looking back over his shoulder as he urged the kite into flight. Autumn skipped behind him cheerfully and Elliot called out instructions from a distance. His words were inaudible from where Bernie and Olivia stood, but even at a height the wide smile on Chase's face was unmistakable.

Bernie's smile was equally warm as she watched the kids laugh. "Chase really seems to be enjoying it out there."

Her heart swelling with love, Olivia focused her attention on her young son. He stood motionless now, his thin neck craned to look up at the kite, dipping and diving precariously in the wind but staying afloat. "Yeah, he does. It's good for him to be away from New York for a bit. He's had a rough go of things, especially this past year. Kids can be cruel."

"They can indeed," Bernie agreed, her eyes drifting absently over to her own son. "And so can adults."

Olivia didn't reply to that, choosing instead to take another sip of her coffee as she watched Elliot walk over to Chase and offer animated pointers. The sight made Olivia smile softly. It was strange but wonderful to see Chase connecting with someone so quickly. She had seen them talking earlier out on the patio, and had been amazed at her son's genuine smile in response to something Elliot had said. It was refreshing, relieving.

Her son's smiles were far too rare these days.

Drawing her eyes away from the action below, Bernie suddenly turned around and leaned back against the battered wooden railing, her warm eyes soft as she observed Olivia intently. "So when do you plan on telling Elliot that Chase is his son?"

Olivia froze, her heart thudding violently against her ribcage. Opening her mouth, she had every intention of denying it, but instead sighed loudly. "How did you know?"

Bernie smiled wisely. "He's a lot like Elliot when Elliot was that age. Chase may look like you, but so much of his true personality is Elliot. Maybe not as self-assured, but he has the same dry sense of humor and some of the same interests. Elliot really didn't bloom until high school. I bet Chase won't either."

Olivia sighed, her wry smile brittle. "I know I need to tell him. Both of them. But it's just . . . . hard. Chase has grown up believing Phil is his father."

Bernie nodded slightly. "I can appreciate that. But they both have a right to know the truth. Elliot would want to know, Olivia."

Olivia slowly tugged the draped maroon sweater tighter to her body as if it would shield her. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

Bernie's originally soft face grew darker. "Good idea or not, it needs to be said. Elliot deserves that much."

Sensing she was fast losing a much needed ally, Olivia quickly tried to backtrack. "I know that, but I'm worried about Chase. Pretty much every major male figure in his life has disappointed him. First Phil, and then Shaun. He doesn't have a grandfather he is close to either. I just don't want him to get attached to Elliot, only to have him ripped away again when we go back to New York."

"It doesn't have to be that way. I'm sure Elliot is going to want to share custody. It isn't like he is going to disappear out of Chase's life."

The thought of having Chase away from her for an extended period of time was physically painful. Olivia winced, lowering her coffee cup to the railing to steady her trembling hands. "No, no. Chase wouldn't go for that. He needs me."

_Liar. You need him._

The tears lodged in Olivia's throat turned her voice husky, and Bernie's face softened as she absorbed the pained expression on her former daughter-in-law's features. Deciding to let the subject drop for the moment, Bernie reached over and touched Olivia's cheek gently. "It must have been so hard for you. Alone in a strange city. Pregnant."

Olivia swallowed roughly, drifting back to that frightening time in her life when she had felt so horribly alone she almost couldn't bear it. "It was. Very hard. But it was my choice."

Bernie cradled her coffee cup lightly, lifting it to her lips and watching the steam drift up into the cooling night air before taking a slow sip. "Olivia, I know you were both quite young when you got married. You were barely eighteen, Elliot was only twenty-three. But you have to know that Elliot would have been there for you and Chase. No matter what it took. And I would have been there for you too."

Olivia took a deep breath to dam back the tears that threatened to spill over her lower lids. "You already had so much going on. Your husband had passed away not long before that. Money was tight for your family. Elliot, he was so dependent on his job with my mom. Your whole family was really. And he had plans to go to the Police Academy."

Bernie nodded slightly, her eyes gazing down into the depths of her cup as she remembered. "Yes, money was tight. But we would have found a way. Elliot would have done whatever it took to provide for you and that baby. You didn't have to leave."

Slowly, Olivia turned and walked away, shakily lowering herself down onto an iron deck chair that sat a few feet back from the railing. Bernie hesitated for a moment before joining her, carefully lowering her coffee mug onto the weathered patio table.

"I didn't know when I left that I was pregnant." Taking a deep breath, Olivia slowly recounted the events of that night twelve years ago, carefully omitting her run-in with Elliot and Kathy as Bernie listened intently. Although Olivia had told this story only a few days before to Alex, this recounting was infinitely harder, her voice hitching frequently now that her nerves were no longer numb with alcohol.

"I knew what was at risk for Elliot, for your family. I just couldn't live with that." Olivia released a shaky breath, running a hand absently over the back of her neck. "So I took the train into New York. I wanted out of small town life, wanted to start over, to disappear. It seemed like the perfect place to just vanish."

Shrugging, Olivia picked at an errant piece of lint on the sweater as she continued the story, frowning at the memory. "Of course it was nothing like I thought it would be. I ran through all the money I brought so quickly. For three months I was homeless, sleeping on the streets, thinking my morning sickness was just the flu, or stress-induced. Then a street outreach worker told me about a place I could go, where there was a bed for me. Safe Haven the place was called. The people there were so kind. They took me to the clinic, where I found out I was pregnant. They helped me get a job at a coffee shop, waitressing. That was where I met Phil, my second husband after Elliot. The coffee shop was right down the street from where he worked. He was kind to me, sweet, caring, didn't mind that I was pregnant with another man's child. He asked me to marry him the day Chase was born, and I accepted."

Olivia shook her head, morbidly amused now at her own naivety. "For some, it was a fairytale. For me, it was what I had to do to survive. I cared for Phil, was thankful for all he had done for me, but I don't think I ever really loved him. I don't know if I could have. I was still head over heels in love with Elliot."

Her eyes shiny with unshed tears, Bernie reached across the table and gently lay her hand over Olivia's. "He looked for you. Every day until those divorce papers came. He visited your mom many times, begging her to tell him where you were. I don't think she knew much, but she acted like she did, and seemed to enjoy torturing him. He called everyone he thought might know where you had gone. For almost a year, he was a zombie. He rarely ate, didn't sleep. He completed that summer working for your mother and then didn't leave the house for almost a full month."

Bernie shook her head slowly, a lone tear wetting the corner of her eye. "For a long time, I hated you for what you did to my son. But I always thought something must have happened for you to just leave like that. Olivia, I'm so sorry for all that happened with your mom. You should have come to us love, told Elliot what had happened. We would have figured something out."

Olivia shook her head, quickly wiping her leaking eyes on the back of her hand. "I tried. I . . . I just . . ." She flashed back to the image of Elliot and Kathy, curled up by the beautiful picture window, sitting so close their knees touched. Kissing.

"I just couldn't."

Despite her sympathy, Bernie felt a strong urge to push Olivia harder, to force her to purge the infection that had taken root in the pit of her stomach. She squeezed the younger woman's hand reassuringly, trying to convey all of her warmth and support in that one gesture. "What aren't you telling me sweetheart? You need to get it out, to open up, or it's going to eat you alive. You look so miserable."

That was all it took to break Olivia - the acknowledgement of what she thought she had been hiding so well. Her face crumbling, she momentarily lost her battle with the tears, and they started victoriously slipping down her face, one after another.

It was true. She was miserable.

Absolutely, completely, unequivocally miserable. And so very tired of being strong about it.

Sensing she was nearing her breaking point, that the poison inside her was starting to weaken, Bernie pushed again. "Tell me Olivia. Maybe I can help."

Olivia slowly, reluctantly, opened her mouth to respond when suddenly the sliding door to the upper balcony flew open and Joe and Cyndi shot through, chasing each other and laughing loudly. Both women jumped, surprised at their sudden appearance, so lost in their conversation that they hadn't even noticed the kites disappear from the sky. Autumn followed on the heels of her older siblings, twirling a flower between her fingers and humming to herself, and Elliot and Chase were right behind her, engaged in conversation.

Thankful for the distraction, Olivia seized the opportunity and bolted, standing up suddenly and wiping her damp hands on her dress. Dropping the maroon sweater on the seat of her vacated chair, Olivia turned to Bernie, struggling to make eye contact. "Thank you very much for dinner. We really should be going."

Without waiting for a response, Olivia spun around on her heels and virtually ran toward the sliding door that would lead to stairs and freedom. Realizing everyone had stopped and was staring at her, she couldn't get across the floor fast enough.

"Let's go Chase," Olivia murmured as she brushed past him, studiously avoiding Elliot's eyes, which she could feel locked on her face. Uneasy, Chase watched his mother go. Sensing her unhappiness, he quickly followed her after shooting a shy smile up at Elliot.

"Olivia."

Elliot couldn't stop himself from calling after her, the look on her face making his heart constrict. Olivia was not usually a crier, but one look at her face told him she had been crying just now. Even that day she had come to him, bleeding, she hadn't cried. She had been strong, stoic. Today she ignored his call, disappearing into the darkness of the upstairs bedroom connected to the balcony, Chase following closely on her heels.

Once they were both gone from sight, Elliot turned to his mother who was just now slowly rising from her chair. "She okay?"

Bernie smiled sadly, walking over and patting her son's arm softly before slipping in through the sliding door as well, her words floating in the air for only a moment before being ripped away by the wind.

"I hope so Elliot. I hope so."


	7. Wrong

**Chapter 6 – Wrong**

She had a headache.

A ridiculously sadistic headache.

It was the kind of headache from which there was no escape. It lay tightly across her forehead, an intense pressure that aggravated her temple and sent shooting pains ricocheting through her eyes.

No, Olivia decided as she trudged morosely down the lamplit sidewalk, it had moved beyond a horrible headache about two blocks ago. Now, it was more of a migraine. A stomach churning, vision blurring migraine of epic proportions. She had thought escaping the Stabler home would have helped. Assumed that immersing herself in the fresh evening air and fleeing from the oppressive tension would alleviate some of the pressure.

She had been wrong. And not for the first time that night.

She had also been wrong to believe she would survive dinner unscathed. To think the ice between her and Elliot would eventually thaw. It was still as solid as ever, as impenetrable as thick steel.

She was wrong to have shared the truth with Bernie. Despite her insistence that Olivia be the one to disclose the reality of Chase's paternity to Elliot, Olivia knew Bernie would not be willing to keep the secret for long. And once Elliot learned the truth, he would have yet another reason to despise her. Not only had Olivia left, but she had taken his son with her.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The evening air was cool as Olivia and Chase trooped down the quiet gray street, the rumble of the ocean growing fainter with each step. Serena Benson had lived on the opposite side of town from the Stabler's, but in a village the size of Portside, that distance was not as significant as it sounded. The trip usually only took twenty minutes on foot, but on that particular evening Olivia's feet were dragging, weighed down by the consistent ache between her ears, and the walk was taking twice that.

On the green lawns that ran parallel to the road, crickets chirruped merrily, a high-pitched cacophony that made Olivia wince. She shivered a little, her filmy summer dress a poor defense against the cool night breeze. Beside her, Chase seemed completely unaffected by the chill in the air. He maintained a cheerful running commentary as they walked, more animated than Olivia had seen him in a long time. His voice upbeat, he repeatedly extolled the virtues of the Stablers, particularly Elliot, recounting in great detail what fun it had been flying kites on the beach. Normally, Olivia would have been thrilled at his excitement, so it distressed her when she found herself wishing for his characteristic moroseness. She knew that made her a horrible mother, but his constant chatter was exacerbating the unrelenting pain in her temple. At that moment, all she longed to do was disappear up to her room, strip out of her clingy dress, and crawl under the covers.

Scurrying a bit ahead of her, Chase kicked a small black stone, his dark eyes watching it bounce and skip erratically across the pavement before it hopped off the curb and disappeared down a storm drain. When he turned to wait for a sluggish Olivia to catch up, Chase's expression was serious.

"Mom, why does Elliot hate you?"

The abrupt, honest question caught Olivia completely off guard and she automatically halted in her tracks, her jaw dropping and her headache intensifying. For a moment, she marveled at her young son's insight, his ability to read the atmosphere of a room. Although all the children at dinner undoubtedly felt the tension, they appeared less able to identify why it existed.

Not Chase.

Slowly beginning to walk again, Olivia massaged her throbbing temple with her thumbs. "I think 'hate' may be a bit of a strong word, Chase."

_Or not_.

Chase shrugged absently, unwilling to argue semantics with her. "Okay. He doesn't hate you maybe but he sure doesn't like you. Why?"

Running a hand through her hair, Olivia sighed, mentally calculating the distance remaining until they arrived at her mother's house. Three blocks to go. She could do this.

Waving a dismissive hand, Olivia avoided Chase's intelligent eyes. "It's a long story Buddy. "

At least that wasn't a lie. It was a long story. When Olivia pondered how best to explain it, her head pounded so fiercely and she felt so nauseated that she feared she was going to vomit on one of her neighbor's well-manicured lawns.

Sighing loudly, Olivia chose the simplest explanation, although it did no justice to the complexity of the situation. "Things just didn't work out between us."

Now that was an understatement.

Chase fell into step beside her as she passed, glancing up thoughtfully and pushing his glasses higher on his nose. "Maybe you could just say sorry and he wouldn't be mad anymore."

Olivia smiled dryly, gazing down at her son affectionately. If only it were that simple. "I don't think so, Buddy. Sorry can't always fix everything."

"Well, couldn't you just try?"

Rubbing her throbbing temple more steadily now, Olivia groaned internally. She was in no mood or shape for this conversation. Despite her best efforts in quelling it, her irritation level rose exponentially. "I don't think he wants to hear it Chase."

"How do you know?"

Olivia gritted her teeth, feeling a prickle of sweat erupt along her spine despite the chill. A block and a half to go. In less than ten minutes, she could crash under the covers and forget this horrid evening ever happened. "I just know."

"How?"

"Enough Chase!" Olivia snapped, stopping dead and directing a fiery glare toward her son as the pressure in her head grew until she feared her eyes would be forced from their sockets. Shocked at her sudden outburst, Chase also stopped, gazing up at his mother in surprise. "That's it. No more questions. Elliot and I are not, and will not, be friends. Ever again. Now I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Chin jutting out and eyes darkening, Chase looked at his mother defiantly for a moment before spinning on his heels and striking out ahead of her, his white running shoes blinding against the dull sidewalk. Sighing, Olivia gave him a slight head start before slowly following after him, the guilt in her gut mixing with the pain in her head to produce a cocktail of unhappiness. She could tell from the straight line of Chase's shoulders that she was going to be on the receiving end of silent treatment for the next day at least.

He was a lot like Elliot that way.

The remaining block and a half were quiet as Chase stormed ahead and Olivia lagged behind. As they turned onto tree-lined Cedar Street, Olivia released a sigh of relief. Almost there. She could see the hulking shape of her mother's large house lurking in the shadows at the end of the street. She would unobtrusively ensure Chase got into bed before crawling into bed herself and hopefully sleeping soundly until the pain in her head dissipated.

As they closed the distance to the massive house, Olivia's stomach twisted and she felt the hair on her neck stand up. Frowning, she glanced around, trying to identify the source of her sudden unease. No danger was immediately apparent. The street was still. Aside from the occasional dog bark, all was silent too. Behind the drawn curtains of some of the neighbors, the flicker of a TV screen was visible, but that was the only movement. Turning her attention to her mother's house, Olivia scratched her arm absently, momentarily forgetting the ache in her head.

Something wasn't right.

The exterior of her mother's house was also quiet. The lone porch light served as a beacon, guiding Olivia and Chase through the darkness as they cut across the front lawn, the green grass soft against Olivia's sandaled feet. There was no flicker of a TV inside, but light did beam out from the back hall through one of the many windows that dotted the siding. On the front lawn, the "For Sale" sign hung on an iron arm, the thin chains supporting it tinkling in the wind.

Suddenly, Olivia froze, her breath catching violently in her throat.

She hadn't left the back hall light on.

"Chase, wait," Olivia called out, breaking into a jog until she pulled up even with him. Grunting, Chase glanced up at her, his face stony until he caught her expression of concern. Frowning, he followed her gaze, his bottom lip trapped in his teeth as he tried to identify what had caught his mother's attention.

"What is it Mom?"

"Just stay behind me," Olivia murmured, her eyes locked on the house as she crept forward, adrenaline surging into her system. Slowly, keeping her body in front of Chase, she mounted the front steps one at a time, agilely avoiding the spots she knew from experience would creak loudly. Crouching low to keep out of sight, Olivia slowly grabbed the door handle and twisted it.

Unlocked. Shit.

Wishing vehemently for something heavy she could use as a weapon, Olivia gradually pushed the door open, her heart pounding in her throat.

Motioning with her hand for Chase to stay close, Olivia slipped into the still house, all senses alert. Peering around the door jam, she strained her eyes to scan the empty kitchen. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Olivia felt a flicker of relief, wondering if perhaps she had simply forgotten to lock the door and had in fact left the hall light on. But when her gut insisted she give herself more credit, Olivia swallowed hard and wiped her sweaty palms on the light fabric of her dress, readying herself to take the plunge.

Slipping silently into the empty kitchen, Olivia crept over to the wooden knife block and drew out the large butcher's knife, its impressive blade steely gray in the dim light.

"Mom?" Chase's voice was shaky behind her and Olivia shushed him with a finger to her lips.

Cautiously, they pushed forward through the kitchen and into the living room, Olivia's eyes straining to see in the darkness, her fingers tracing her path. Pausing just inside the dividing wall that faded away into the living room, Olivia was alert for sounds of movement, for any indication they might not be alone in the room.

All was silent.

Slowly, Olivia reached over and flicked on the floor lamp, her eyes blinking in the sudden bright light as she held the knife protectively in front of them. When no one leapt out, Olivia relaxed minutely and surveyed the damage.

The living room was trashed.

Her mother's antique curio cabinet stood open, its contents removed and tossed haphazardly onto the couch. Both the couch and chairs were devoid of cushions and the papers that her mother had kept in a small desk to one side of the room were thrown everywhere, the desk drawers gaping open. The two side tables were in similar states of disarray, their brown drawers removed completely and resting on the floor, contents cascading across the carpet like vomit. One of the table lamps had fallen onto the floor, its shade askew; the other remained on the table but now lay impotently on its side.

A sudden loud bang from upstairs made Olivia jump nearly to the roof.

Stumbling backward, Olivia tripped over Chase, who had been hovering as close behind her as humanly possible. In an effort to avoid crushing him, she bumped into a nearby wall, swallowing a cry as her wrist connected with a sharp corner, pins and needles shooting up her arm. Grabbing Chase by the thin shoulders, Olivia spun him around and herded him toward the door, her heart pounding and her mouth dry.

Sensing his mother's urgency, Chase moved quickly, his shoes squeaking on the kitchen linoleum as they tumbled out the door and down the porch stairs. Pulse thudding in her ears, Olivia jogged down the street with Chase in front of her, stopping only when they rounded a corner and moved out of sight of the large Victorian.

Struggling to regulate her breathing, Olivia reached into the beach bag she had brought to the Stabler's and withdrew her cell phone, hands trembling. The yellow display lit up brightly as she punched in the numbers, too shaken to wonder how after all these years she even remembered them.

"Hello?" Elliot's voice was gruff on the other end of the line.

"It's me." Her voice quaking, Olivia took a deep breath to steady it. "I didn't know who else to call."

* * *

"He's gone."

All daylight had completely vanished from the sky by the time Elliot exited the Benson homestead, the thick heels of his beige work boots clunking heavily off the wooden porch steps. Tiny twinkling stars pierced the velvet darkness above as he tucked his gray revolver snugly back into its brown holster, his distinct jaw square with tension. Unruly red hair sticking up haphazardly, Jake followed closely behind, an expression of unease distorting his youthful features. The steady breeze of earlier had died and the trees stood motionless for the first time that day, sagging wearily beside the house as if they had just run a marathon.

At the sound of Elliot's deep voice, Chase and Olivia slowly emerged from behind the unmarked patrol car. Chase clutched his mother's hand tightly, his small knuckles white, and Olivia wasn't in much better shape, her stomach tied in nervous knots as she leaned against the trunk of the car.

Genuine concern swirling in his expressive eyes, Elliot stopped in front of Olivia, his handsome mouth set in a grim line. "Looks like the same person responsible for the other break-ins around here. Most of the rooms have been tossed."

"Dammit," Jake cursed, shoving his gun violently back into its holster. Suddenly remembering the young member of the group, he tossed an apologetic look at Olivia before returning his gaze to Elliot. "Excuse my language. Looks like he escaped us again."

Sighing loudly in frustration, Elliot nodded reluctantly and rubbed a hand over his face, the rough skin of his palm scratching audibly against the light stubble on his chin. Olivia noticed for the first time that he had changed since dinner, opting for a pair of jeans and a dark gray t-shirt that displayed his lean body. The jeans rode low on his hips as if he had forgotten his belt and the colorful waistband of his boxers was visible where his shirt had snagged in his gun holster.

Absorbing Elliot's somewhat rumpled appearance, Olivia wondered momentarily if she had interrupted him entertaining someone in the bedroom. When that thought made her nauseous, she quickly shoved it away.

As the small group fell silent, Elliot turned to observe the large house glaring down at him, its wide windows glinting menacingly in the dim light of the street lamps. His stomach churned anxiously as his mind whirled, trying desperately to assemble a puzzle that was missing too many pieces. He didn't like it. Not at all. If they had come home ten minutes earlier, they may have surprised the perp downstairs. If he had had a weapon . . .

The outcome could have been far worse than missing jewelry.

"He might have gotten away with it this time, but he's getting more careless," Elliot muttered, letting that ugly thought ebb from his mind as he turned back to the trio leaning against the patrol car. "Normally he's gone by the time anyone gets home. This time, he took a little too long."

"Maybe, but not long enough." Jake shook his head, a frown dancing on his freckled face. "He's smart."

Rubbing the back of his neck wearily, Elliot turned his gaze to Olivia and Chase. "It's safe for you to go back in. I'll need a list of missing items with descriptions. Nothing stolen in previous robberies has been fenced, at least not locally, but we will want to keep the surrounding towns on alert just in case."

Nodding, Olivia massaged her aching wrist gingerly. "I'll do my best. To be honest, I don't know if I will even know what's missing. I had only just started taking inventory and packing up some of my mother's things."

Catching the wince on Olivia's face when she touched a particularly tender spot on her wrist, Elliot frowned worriedly. "Are you hurt?"

Olivia shook her head quickly, a few strands of dark hair slipping out of her clip and falling into her face. "No, it's fine. I just banged my wrist in my hurry to get out."

Reaching over, Jake gently drew her arm away from her body, examining her wrist closely. His fingertips lingered on the smooth underside of her forearm, the soft, feathery touch making Olivia shiver pleasantly. She chanced a curious glance at Elliot, who was watching them with hard but blank eyes.

"It's a bit swollen. We should get you inside and put some ice on it." Without waiting for her to agree, Jake gently put his free hand on her lower back and guided her toward the front door, his other hand cradling her bruised wrist carefully. "Chief, why don't you grab the paperwork for Olivia out of the car and meet us inside?"

Oblivious to Elliot's incredulous glare, Jake steered Olivia toward the front door, his confidence skyrocketing when she didn't draw away. Mounting the porch steps together, they crossed the threshold into the house, the screen door snapping closed behind them. Beyond the front foyer a bright kitchen opened up, the walls painted a vibrant, sun-kissed yellow. The gleaming white marble countertops were illuminated by a series of small spotlights dangling over the breakfast island; the appliances were brilliant stainless steel and looked almost new.

Reaching into the deep freezer, Jake located a blue icepack. Snagging a patterned towel off the oven door handle, he wrapped the icepack up carefully before bringing it over to where Olivia stood beside the breakfast island. Hyper aware of her deep, molten chocolate eyes on him, Jake gently clasped her wrist and applied the icepack, his large hands clammy with nervous sweat. Olivia winced momentarily at the slight pressure, but once a cool numbness set in her face relaxed, mouth drooping and eyes fluttering closed.

"That feel good?" Jake asked huskily and not without innuendo, arousal trickling unbidden into his veins.

Nodding slowly, Olivia opened her eyes and flashed him a tight smile. "Yes. Better. Thank you."

They stood quietly together for a moment, the air heavy with anticipation. Swallowing hard, Jake worked to summon all of his courage. The nearness of Elliot's voice suggested he and Chase would be inside at any moment. His window of opportunity was closing, and fast. It was hard enough for him to ask out a beautiful woman under normal circumstances; there was no way he could pull it off with her ex-husband and his boss standing right there.

Feeling Jake's hands tremble slightly, Olivia glanced up from her numb wrist and regarded him curiously. "Are you okay?"

Jake smiled nervously, licking his lips quickly in an attempt to wet them. "Yeah. Fine." Pulling the icepack away gently, he looked down at her wrist, rotating it gently in the light. "I think the swelling has gone down a bit."

"It's pleasantly numb." Olivia smiled at Jake warmly and removed the icepack from his hands, her fingertips lightly brushing against his. "Thank you."

"No problem." As Olivia twisted away for a moment to place the icepack on the counter, Jake took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "Look, I know this is probably a really awkward and inappropriate time to be asking this, but . . . uh . . . there is something I was kind of wondering."

Anticipating the question based on their interaction in the bar, Olivia tilted her dark head to the side and smiled lightly but said nothing.

"I was wondering if, maybe, I could . . . uh . . . take you out to dinner tomorrow night?"

As he stuttered, Jake's normally pale face flushed fire engine red and Olivia couldn't help but chuckle. He was cute, she couldn't deny that, and Olivia felt herself melting just a little despite her reservations. She wasn't overly attracted to him, but he seemed like a sweet guy, and it wasn't like men were knocking down her door for a date. He might be just the thing to distract her from some of the other things going on in her life. Maybe he was a bit immature for her, but he knew she and Chase were a package deal and he was still interested in going out with her.

At least that was one major point in his favor.

"Okay, sure. That'd be nice." Olivia grinned as Jake let out a relieved whoosh of breath.

"Really? Awesome. Great," Jake stammered, smiling so broadly Olivia wondered if his face would crack under the pressure. "I'll pick you up at six?"

"Sounds good," Olivia agreed with a half smile, picking up the icepack again and re-applying it to her throbbing wrist. Despite her certainty seconds earlier, she suddenly had an uncomfortable pinch in the pit of her stomach. Was it really in her best interests to be getting involved with her ex-husband's co-worker?

Her ex-husband sure didn't think so.

"Yeah, sounds fucking fantastic."

Elliot's tone was hard as granite when he stormed aggressively into the kitchen, Chase dogging his heels. Face stern, he launched a pile of forms onto the marble countertop. The bright white paper skated across the smooth surface and spilled off the edge onto the floor, scattering when it hit the linoleum.

No one made a move to pick it up.

Turning a fierce gaze on his deputy, Elliot's face was nearly murderous. "There's all the paperwork. Is there anything else I can do for you, _boss_?"

As abruptly as he had turned red, Jake went pale under Elliot's vicious scrutiny. Feeling a surge of sympathy for the young deputy, Olivia shot Elliot a hard glare that he ignored.

"Mom, you should see the inside of Elliot's patrol car. It's so cool! He has a sweet radio and scanner and there's an extra gun strapped under the seat, plus it has a grate separating the police in the front from the criminals in the back." Chase's brown eyes were wide and his voice animated as he gazed up at Elliot in awe.

"That's pretty neat," Olivia agreed with a genuine smile, ruffling her son's hair before moving to shove the melting icepack back into the freezer.

With an equally affectionate smile at the young boy, Elliot felt himself relax slightly, his focus momentarily diverted from his deputy's arrogance. "It's not nearly as exciting as you think Chase. Most of my day isn't spent tracking down criminals and saving the good guys. It's usually more paperwork than anything." Elliot's face darkened slightly. "At least until recently."

"Still, it's pretty cool. People look up to you, respect you." Chase grew serious, his smile weakening. "I wish people looked at me that way."

Feeling a protective clenching in his gut, Elliot focused his full attention on Chase. "Why don't you come into work with me tomorrow? You can see what my job is really like. See exactly how unexciting it really is. You won't look up to me after that."

"Can I Mom? Please?"

The atypical excitement on Chase's face was all it took to convince Olivia to agree.

"Okay. I guess so. As long as you don't give Elliot any trouble or get in his way."

"Cool!" Chase grinned widely, his white teeth shiny in the ambient light. "Thanks Mom!"

"You better get to bed then Buddy," Olivia encouraged, nudging his thin shoulder gently. "It's late and you have a busy day tomorrow."

"Okay," Chase chirruped merrily, tossing his battered paperback, forgotten, on one of the high-backed kitchen chairs. "I'll see you in the morning Elliot!"

As Chase shot out of the kitchen and bounded up the stairs that led to his bedroom, Olivia felt a wave of sadness wash over her, wishing vehemently he had that same level of enthusiasm about hanging out with her. Giving her head a mental shake, Olivia forced that negative thought away. At least he was connecting with someone. Even if that someone was Elliot.

Still, the clammy fingers of jealousy were tough to shake.

When Chase was out of earshot, Olivia turned her gaze to Elliot, her expression serious and mildly threatening. "You got his hopes up now. You'd better be here tomorrow morning."

Elliot's light eyes darkened and Olivia could see his hackles rising. "If I say I will be here, I will be here. I'm not like all the other losers you let into your bed Olivia."

Jake opened his mouth to object to Elliot's rudeness but the Sherriff cut him off sharply with a wave of his hand, suddenly back to business.

"I have a call in to the crime scene lab two counties over. They should be stopping by tomorrow to do some fingerprinting. We aren't exactly high on their priority list here in Portside, but because of the frequency of the break-ins, they have been willing to travel out here to support with cases that they normally wouldn't have. Make sure you're around. Even if it's after six o'clock."

Spinning on his heels, Elliot stalked out of the house, his shoulders straight as plywood, the screen door slamming closed behind him. Leaning heavily against the breakfast island, Olivia sighed, conflicting emotions raging in her heart. She was both hurt and angry. It was upsetting to have Elliot unhappy with her, and it irritated her that he still had that kind of power over her emotions. How dare he give her a hard time about dating someone? It wasn't her kissing another woman after having been married only a week.

After glancing nervously after his boss, Jake gradually returned his attention to Olivia, resting a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?" The genuine concern in his eyes was moving and Olivia had to swallow the urge to tear up before nodding.

"Yeah, I'm okay. We have a lot of history." Brushing the loose hair out of her eyes, Olivia laughed at the ridiculousness of that obvious statement.

"I can tell," Jake murmured dryly, reaching up to caress Olivia's cheek softly. "But I think it's time to leave the past in the past, and start thinking about the future."

Leaning forward, Jake caught her off guard as he kissed her cheek lightly and briefly, his fingertips grazing her earlobe. As he pulled back, his eyes drifted down to her mouth, and Olivia felt heat flood her body. His hesitation palpable, Jake internally debated whether to risk a much desired real kiss. In the end, he elected not to push his luck. "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

Still feeling the warmth of his lips against her cheek, Olivia smiled. "Six o'clock."

With a final wave, Jake disappeared out the door and into the quiet night. Suddenly feeling alone and vulnerable in the huge, violated Victorian, Olivia crossed her arms over her chest protectively and walked to the sheared window. From her vantage point she watched Jake climb into the patrol car and speak to Elliot for only a moment before Elliot peeled out of the driveway, the patrol car's wheels spitting up chunks of gravel in the process.


	8. Painful

**Chapter 7 – Painful**

"So, exactly how bored are you right now? Be honest."

Summer was in full swing in Portside as Elliot and Chase lowered themselves onto the benches of a small picnic table, spreading out bottles of Diet Coke and cardboard containers of foot-long hotdogs on the battered wood before them. The layer of nearly transparent fabric that hung off the skeletal arms of the large golf umbrella above them was their only protection from the blistering sun, and Elliot could feel perspiration coating the back of his neck and beading on his forehead. Aviator sunglasses shading his eyes, Elliot shifted on the bench and rolled up the sleeves of his uniform, resting his forearms against the rough table. The uneven wood dug lightly into his skin and left red pinpricks in its wake as he reached for his hotdog, stomach rumbling loudly.

A stone's throw away, Portside's beautiful beach spread out before them, coasting smoothly over the landscape until it disappeared under the shimmering water of the ocean. The sweltering weather had enticed a slew of folks from surrounding towns into Portside. The hordes flocked down to the sand in large groups, clad in brightly-colored swimsuits and toting patterned beach towels. The light beige sand was lined with sprawling beach umbrellas and the blue water was dotted with bobbing heads and the occasional body board.

"I'm not bored," Chase insisted for the millionth time as he took an impressive bite of his own hotdog. "It's not as exciting as it looks on TV, but your job is still pretty cool."

Elliot laughed, a deep chuckle that made Chase smile. "You will learn soon enough that pretty much everything in life looks more exciting on TV Chase."

Downing half his bottle of Diet Coke in one long gulp, Elliot kept a steady, watchful eye on the beach before him. Despite the significant number of people on the sand, there was no immediate sign of any impending trouble or conflict. Even the group of young men from whom Elliot had confiscated a case of beer moments before only grumbled impotently from their little piece of sand. It wasn't like they were in any position to argue sitting as they were, no more than ten feet away from the posted "No drinking on the beach" sign.

Chase followed the direction of Elliot's gaze as he lowered his hotdog back to its container and wiped his mouth on a yellow paper napkin. "Yeah, I guess so. But still, it's pretty cool. No one pushes you around. You tell people what to do and they do it. They respect you."

Elliot chuckled dryly, wiping his sweaty forehead on the back of his hand. "Not always. But having the badge and the gun and the uniform does help."

The hotdog vendor behind them was doing booming business, the smell of charcoaling meat making Elliot's mouth water. He was already contemplating purchasing a second hotdog before he even finished his first. He had been so wrapped up in analyzing the latest robbery at the Benson home that he had once again forgotten to eat breakfast.

Across from him, Chase slowly but enthusiastically worked his way through his hotdog, red ketchup leaking out the end and falling with a splash onto the checkered cardboard container. A trio of seagulls paced beside him, casing the table, hoping for sloppy seconds. Chase's hair was already lighter from being exposed to the sun for the past hour and his olive skin was finally starting to darken.

He looked so much like Olivia it was almost painful.

"You've got to be about ready to go home," Elliot mused with an affectionate smile. "We spent most of the morning in a boring meeting, then we drove around town and saw absolutely nothing happen, and now we are stuck on beach patrol for the rest of the day, confiscating beer from drunken college students and breaking up fights over precious beach real estate. Surely by now I have totally scared you away from becoming a small town Sherriff."

Chase shook his head with a small grin as he finished off the last of his hotdog, brushing crumbs from his fingers. "No, I still think it's pretty cool. You get to solve mysteries and people look up to you. I wish people looked up to me."

Elliot smiled at Chase sympathetically as he fiddled with his napkin. "Kids at school aren't very nice, are they?"

Chase fell silent for a moment, his eyes avoiding Elliot's. Reaching out with a thin finger, he absently traced the initials a previous visitor had carved neatly into the wood. "No. I get picked on a lot. By this one group of older kids mostly. They put me into a headlock and steal my backpack and books all the time."

Elliot bit his tongue to rein in the flood of anger that began sizzling under his skin. If he were there, he would make sure none of those damn kids ever came near Chase again. Where the hell were the teachers? Why didn't Olivia do something?

"You know what Chase? I can teach you a move that will get you out of a headlock. I took a lot of self defense classes in school. Maybe I could show you a few moves sometime."

"Really?" Chase's face brightened significantly and he sat up straighter on the wooden bench. "That would be so cool."

"You got it then," Elliot said with a warm smile, pushing himself to his feet and ducking a little so as to avoid knocking his head on the umbrella. "Want another hotdog?"

"Sure. Thank you," Chase murmured almost shyly, his eyes shooting down to the table as he began gathering up both of their garbage.

When Elliot returned a moment later however, hotdogs in hand, Chase's expression and the atmosphere at the table had noticeably changed. He looked crestfallen as Elliot placed the hotdog in front of him and slid back onto the opposite bench.

"What's the matter?" Elliot asked, the corners of his mouth dipping down into a concerned frown.

"Nothing," Chase muttered unconvincingly, his dark eyes darting back to the hotdog vendor over Elliot's shoulder. "Is one of those girls your girlfriend?"

Confused, Elliot twisted on his seat to look at the pair of bikini-clad co-eds who had been flirting with him just moments before at the hotdog cart.

"Those girls? No, no. I don't have a girlfriend actually."

"They're pretty," Chase said quietly, blushing slightly.

"They are. But I think they are less interested in me than they are in the uniform actually. You get that sometimes in this job," Elliot confided, smiling affectionately at the young boy across the table.

"My mom's pretty too," Chase blurted out abruptly before grabbing his hotdog and taking a large bite as if to halt all other words from flying out of his mouth.

Elliot smiled crookedly, feeling a dull pain in his stomach. Glancing down, he picked at his hotdog bun mindlessly. "Your mom is more than pretty Chase. She's beautiful."

Chase looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Elliot chuckled. "Well not yet. But she's going out tonight with a guy I think she likes. So she might have one by the end of the night."

Chase frowned, lowering his hotdog back to the checkered cardboard container waiting patiently on the table. "I don't want Jake to be my mom's boyfriend."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like him."

The abrupt honesty of the comment made Elliot want to grin, but he smothered it. Although Jake wasn't Elliot's favorite person either at that moment, such a blanket statement was hardly fair.

"That's not very nice Chase. You don't really know Jake. Maybe once you got to know him you would like him. He's been a very good deputy to me."

Chase shook his head resolutely, crossing thin arms over his chest defensively. "He's not good for my mom. She needs someone who can protect her."

Elliot chuckled wryly, flashing back to the young Olivia he knew so well. "Chase, I've known your mom since she was little. She's a strong person, as strong as they come. The last thing she would want is someone who would always be trying to protect her."

"Why do you hate her Elliot?"

The question was so brutally direct that Elliot was shocked into silence for a moment, observing Chase carefully.

"I don't hate your mom."

And it was true. He didn't. He couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to. Hate was a far less complicated emotion than what he felt for her.

Posture growing stiffer, Chase refused to defer from his line of questioning. "You don't like her though. How come? Was she mean to you?"

Elliot hesitated, searching for a way to explain that would not place blame. "It's not something that simple Chase. Grown-up relationships are complex."

And it had been. So very wonderfully, excitingly complex. In the end, it was the abandonment that stung the fiercest. She had just disappeared, offering him no opportunity to plead with her to stay, to defend himself for whatever he had done to scare her away, to explain something she might have seen . . .

None of that. Just her wedding ring on the night table and a fucking note on the pillow that basically said 'It's not you, it's me'.

Dropping his eyes to the table, Chase appeared thoughtful, pushing a crumb around with the tip of his finger.

"Mom says what goes around, comes around. She says that if you are mean to someone, someone else will be mean to you. That things always equal out in the end, like math." Chase looked back up at Elliot, his dark eyes serious and mature beyond his years. "People have been mean to my mom Elliot. My grandma was, my dad was, and my stepdad was. So it's equal now. You don't have to be mad anymore."

Elliot felt his throat close and his stomach tighten at the pleading desperation in Chase's eyes.

"Chase . . ." he started slowly, but then fell silent, unsure of what to say. It was Chase who eventually continued.

"My dad divorced her. Divorced both of us." Chase's eyes were shiny with unshed tears. "He walked out one day and moved in with another lady. Now he has other kids, better kids, and no time for me. He doesn't even take me on trips in the summer anymore."

"That's his loss Chase, not yours," Elliot insisted roughly, feeling anger regenerate in his stomach and heat the rest of his body.

Chase grunted but didn't acknowledge the truth of the statement. "My stepdad Shaun was always nice to me. He took me to baseball games, bought me cool things. But he wasn't very nice to Mom. They fought all the time, yelled, and said mean things to each other."

His eyes meeting Elliot's steadily, Chase's voice was matter-of-fact and without reprimand. "Kind of like you and Mom do now."

That simple comment was a kick to Elliot's gut. It removed all the wind from his sails, deflated him emotionally. He was a horrible person. Regardless of everything that had happened between him and Olivia, Chase should not have had to bear witness to the resulting bitterness. That wasn't fair.

"Chase-" Elliot began his apology quietly, but Chase continued talking as if he didn't hear him.

"One day I came home from school and Shaun was gone. Mom wouldn't talk about what happened, but she had a black eye and her lip was bloody, so I figured they must have had a really bad fight. He never came back after that. He called sometimes and we talked on the phone. He said Mom didn't want him seeing me, but he promised he would try to take me to a Yankees game anyway. That was a long time ago. Guess he forgot about me too."

Repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fist under the table, Elliot tried desperately to control the anger that supercharged his system. It was only when the hypocrisy hit him that he was able to calm. He wanted to choke Shaun for what he had done, but was he himself any better? Since Olivia's return, Elliot's rude comments had been intended with the same amount of malice as Shaun's fist.

Emotional abuse was still abuse.

No amount of time would heal the damage done to his heart by Olivia's abandonment. There was no forgiveness in him for that. But that didn't mean he had to treat her like garbage, especially in front of her son.

"You know what Chase? You're better off without them. You deserve better than the way they have treated you and your mom," Elliot insisted vehemently, lifting his sunglasses to the top of his head so he could look at Chase unimpeded. "I know that will be hard for you to understand now, but when you get older you will.

Chase shrugged, some of the tension seeping out of his body as he slouched down on the bench, the memories fading. "I'm okay with it being just me and Mom. She's cool. But there are some times I wish I had a dad to go to baseball games with and play video games with. Mom doesn't like that kind of stuff. And sometimes there are . . . guy things I can't talk to Mom about." Chase blushed furiously as he took a long sip of his soda and avoided Elliot's eyes.

Leaning forward on the picnic table, Elliot regarded Chase with serious eyes. "I know we just met Chase, but there is one thing I promise you. No matter where you live, no matter how far apart we might be, if there is ever something you need to talk about that you don't feel you can talk about with your mom, you can call me. I will always make time for you, okay?"

Chase looked at him for a moment, his chocolate eyes assessing, before he nodded slowly, biting his lower lip gently. "Okay."

"Elliot."

A female voice from over Elliot's shoulder startled them both. Glancing up quickly, Elliot came face-to-face with his ex-girlfriend.

"Hey Kathy," he greeted her cautiously, shifting his weight on the bench. When she leaned over to kiss him, Elliot quickly dodged to the side and slid off the bench, hoping the move looked somewhat natural and not like the avoidance technique it was. He could feel Chase's eyes watching the interaction intently. "How are you?"

"I'm good." Kathy regarded him curiously for a moment, confused by his uncharacteristic unease, before dropping her blue-eyed gaze to Chase. "Who's your little friend?"

"This is Chase, Olivia's son."

"Ahh, I see." Kathy looked closer at Chase before turning back to smile at Elliot. "He sure looks like her. I heard she was back in town. How did you get stuck with babysitting duty?"

Elliot bit the tender inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at her. "He came with me to work today to learn what it's like to be a Sherriff. He's been great to have around."

With an apologetic smile to Chase, Elliot reached over and grabbed Kathy's arm, moving them both a few steps away and out of Chase's earshot.

"So what's up?" Elliot inquired quietly, aware of the eyes of more than one townsperson watching them as they spoke. He and Kathy had broken up six months ago after Elliot had made it clear he wasn't interested in marriage, even after their many years together on and off. One failed marriage had been enough for him. By mutual, almost unspoken agreement, they had changed their status instead to 'friends with benefits'. Comfortable, no strings attached sex when needed, it had been a very pleasant arrangement for both of them.

At least until _she_ came back. That was when he started to feel again. Too much.

"I was hoping you would stop by tonight," Kathy purred, tossing her medium length blonde hair over her shoulder. She ran a hand over his chest lightly and Elliot stepped back reactively. He didn't like public displays of affection on the best of days, and he certainly wasn't in to it with Chase sitting mere feet away. And especially not after he had just finished telling Chase he was single.

Kathy was not deterred. "I've missed you. I need you."

Elliot felt his body react involuntarily to her words and he had to take a deep breath to control himself. "I don't think so Kathy. Tonight is not good for me."

Her face hardening, Kathy spoke louder, totally willing to make a scene. "Why not?"

"Things have been really crazy at work, you know that. I've been pretty stressed out. Not really in the mood to be around people."

"I can help you with that stress," Kathy whispered suggestively, lifting her hand back up and allowing her fingers to drift over his lips. Elliot had to stifle a groan as he shivered from the contact. He was rapidly forgetting the reason why spending a night with Kathy was a bad idea.

It was only when he glanced over at Chase that some of his logic came flashing back.

_Role model, role model, role model_.

_Olivia_.

No, he couldn't let her figure in to his decision. Wouldn't let her. Olivia was out with Jake, and Elliot knew what Jake's intentions were, had heard it loud and clear from Fin. Olivia would not be sleeping alone tonight.

Why should he?

Rubbing a hand over his face and glancing at Chase, who had reluctantly turned his attention back to his hotdog, Elliot sighed. "I'll be there around nine."

* * *

It was the story of her life.

Her fate. Destiny. Luck. Whatever you wanted to call it.

It never failed. Men she felt an intense attraction to both physically and mentally were never interested in her, at least not long-term. And those who were interested in her long-term she never seemed to feel a connection with.

Yep, the story of her damn life. Playing out this very minute.

Olivia stifled a sigh as she sat in the upscale dining room of Umberto's, an upper class restaurant in the city of Stratford, a forty-five minute drive from Portside. In and of itself, Stratford was not a large city, but it offered far more variety than Portside when it came to eating establishments and pretty much everything else. Umberto's was miles away in distance and light years away in style from the Sly Badger, the décor classy, the menu choices sophisticated, and the wine perfectly aged.

Olivia should know. She had had plenty of the latter in the last hour.

Smoothing her soft purple dress over her legs, Olivia feigned interest in the conversation, crossing her ankles as she took a sip of the vintage red wine. Jake sat directly across from her at the linen-lined table, completely monopolizing the conversation, far more confident in himself now than the previous night. He wore a pinstriped collared shirt and a pair of khaki pants, his red hair combed back neatly and his face shiny and scrubbed. An ornate fountain burbled behind him and classical elevator music issued out of speakers mounted high in the restaurant's ceiling.

Jake chatted animatedly, enthusiastically eating his meal and speaking in great detail about his life before Portside and how much he missed the Windy City. Olivia smiled and nodded in all the right places, fighting the urge to glance down at her watch.

"Olivia?" Jake's inquisitive tone snapped her back to attention. Jerking her head up, Olivia's gaze travelled from her plate to Jake's face. "Are you still with me? I asked if you miss New York."

Olivia blushed, embarrassed by her rudeness. "Sorry, yes I'm with you. I was just lost in thought."

Leaning back in his plush seat, Jake watched her closely with an odd expression on his youthful face. "I'm boring you, aren't I?"

_Yes_.

"No, no, no," Olivia insisted, lowering her wine glass to the table and reaching across to lay her slightly chilled hand over his. The unexpected contact surprised him, and his eyes dropped down to where they touched. "I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me. I have a lot on my mind right now, what with the break-in and everything yesterday. And I was thinking about Chase, wondering how his day with Elliot went."

Jake flipped his hand over so he could close his slim fingers around hers tightly. "You don't need to worry about the break-in. I'm going to find the guy Olivia."

"I'm sure you will," Olivia agreed quietly, his declaration offering her little comfort for some reason.

Jake gently rubbed his thumb over the soft skin of her hand. "And as for Chase, you don't need to worry about him either. I saw him this morning and he was having a great time, despite the fact he had to sit there and listen to Elliot and I bicker about the break-ins for an hour."

Olivia smiled wryly. "That sounds like something Chase would enjoy. He's definitely a people watcher."

"He's a good kid."

Olivia's smile grew wider and she felt a wave of affection toward Jake for that comment. "Yes, he is. A very good kid. Anyway, back to your question about New York. I do miss it, a lot. I'm pretty much counting the days until we go back. Portside is way too small of a town for me."

Olivia felt her nose grow just a little after that lie. She did miss New York, but she was also enjoying the peace and solitude in Portside. It had been good for her, and for Chase. It was making them both stronger. She just didn't want Jake thinking there was any chance of her hanging around, of them having a more long-term relationship.

"I completely understand," Jake agreed, nodding enthusiastically. "Portside is incredibly boring. I don't plan on sticking around much longer myself." He hesitated for a moment, assessing Olivia carefully. "If I tell you a secret, do you promise not to laugh?"

Olivia took a small bite of her delicious chicken warily. "Of course."

"I want to be a film maker." Jake's face lit up as he spoke, his eyes gleaming excitedly. "It's something I've done for most of my life as a hobby, but I would really like to make a career out of it. Do you think I'm crazy?"

"No! Absolutely not," Olivia said genuinely, his enthusiastic smile contagious. "I think it's wonderful you want to pursue your passion."

"I've actually been accepted into film school starting in September," Jake confided, lowering his voice and glancing around the room as if concerned about being overheard. "Columbia College Chicago. They have an amazing media arts department. I would be studying film and video. No one knows yet except me and you."

"Jake, that's incredible! Good for you," Olivia praised warmly as she took another sip of wine, legitimately happy for him.

If Olivia hadn't been watching closely, she might not have even noticed Jake's face darken slightly. Picking up his fork, he stabbed at his steak with a sigh.

"Maybe, but maybe not. To be honest, I can't afford the tuition. When I applied, I never thought I would be accepted the first time. I was completely shocked when I was. Now, I don't know if I will be able to go."

Olivia swallowed hard, sympathetic to his plight. She knew what it was like to be without much needed money. "Jake, I'm sorry. Is there an option to defer your admission until you can afford it?"

Jake shrugged. "Probably. To be honest though, I really want to start in September. I'm done with Portside Olivia. I'm done with having my life on hold." He sighed loudly, reaching over to grab his wine glass. "Whatever. Whatever happens, happens I guess."

With significantly less enthusiasm than moments earlier, Jake returned to his food and the couple fell into an uncomfortable silence, neither sure where to take the conversation after that somber topic. Both pushed their food around on their plate and Olivia polished off the wonderful wine. When Jake bent over to pick up his fallen linen napkin, Olivia couldn't resist a quick glance at her watch.

Seven forty-five. At least an hour and fifteen minutes to go before she could respectfully claim that she needed to get home and relieve Mrs. Leland, who had graciously agreed to stay with Chase until Olivia's return.

Clearing her throat, eager to end the uncomfortable silence until then, Olivia asked casually "So, any leads on who broke into my mother's house?"

Despite her relaxed tone, Olivia was genuinely curious. She had spent most of the day creating a preliminary list of stolen pieces for Elliot. There was a lot she had probably missed, but she did notice some of her mother's jewelry was gone. The DVD player was also missing, as was her mother's laptop and some of the fine crystal.

Laying down his shiny silver fork, Jake shrugged. "No, not really. Elliot seems pretty convinced the thief is local, someone who actually lives in Portside. I just can't see it. I know pretty much everyone in this town, and I can't imagine any of them breaking into one of their neighbors' houses. It's gotta be someone from a neighboring town. But Elliot does have a good point. Whoever it is seems to know when people have gone out. Whoever he is, he's watching."

Olivia shivered at that thought. "I hope you catch him soon. The entire town is looking over their shoulders. I know I sure am."

Jake's eyes were rock steady as he gazed at her. "I can protect you."

Olivia smiled gently. "You're sweet."

Leaning back in his chair, an anxious look suddenly crossed Jake's face. "Hey, you won't tell Elliot that I talked to you about the case, right? He would not be happy that I'm commenting on an ongoing investigation to a civilian."

Olivia laughed bitterly. "In case you couldn't tell from last night, the last person in this world Elliot would talk to is me. You have nothing to worry about. Even if he did want to talk to me, I wouldn't say anything."

Jake looked relieved. "Thank you. If I have any prayer of going to film school, I need this job."

Falling silent again, they both concentrated on finishing their meals, lost in their own thoughts. Olivia had eaten the last few bites of her salad and loaded her silverware onto her plate for the waitress to remove before she realized Jake was staring at her.

"You know, you have got to be the most beautiful woman I've ever met. Certainly the most beautiful woman I've ever been on a date with," Jake said honestly, reaching across the table and lacing his fingers with hers. His skin was soft, warm, and comforting. "You look amazing tonight."

"Thank you," Olivia murmured with a smile, tucking a silky strand of freshly curled hair behind her ears. When he smiled back, she flushed lightly with pleasure. He was cute when he smiled, attractive even. It may have been the wine or just a gradual mellowing, but Olivia started to wonder if the date could maybe be saved after all.

And then it all came crashing down.

"I can't believe Stabler let you get away. An incredible woman like you. He must have been out of his mind." To Jake's credit, he didn't come out and directly ask what had happened, but the implied question was written all over his face.

_Elliot_.

Just the breath of his name in her mind made Olivia's heart stutter. Her former relationship with Elliot was the last thing in this world she wanted to talk about. Talking about it required thinking about it, and thinking about it was physically painful. A pain much like the one she had experienced that night twelve years ago. Only this time, the physical pain was phantom.

It was the emotional pain that was every bit as real.

_Elliot sitting on the couch, his arm lounging comfortably along the back. Kathy sitting beside him, her knee resting against his leg. Kissing._

Biting back an exasperated sigh, Olivia extracted her hand from Jake's and grabbed the dessert menu that the waitress had stealthily deposited on the table. As she drew it toward herself, she hazarded another glance at her watch.

Eight thirty.

Half an hour to go. She could do this.

"Well," Olivia exclaimed, far too brightly. "How about dessert?"


	9. Inevitable

_A/N – Please note that this chapter is rated M for sexual content._

**Chapter 8 – Inevitable**

"I had a really good time tonight."

While Olivia and Jake dined at Umberto's, a still night had fallen on Portside. The bright sky of the day had ebbed to an inky black and the distant stars were shrouded in building clouds, their weak light completely extinguished. The air was thick, heavy with humidity, the day's sweltering heat having abated only minimally since the sun set. The concealed crickets chirruped cheerfully as Olivia and Jake crossed the front lawn leading to the Benson home, the deep green grass tickling Olivia's toes through her open sandals. Her feet ached from the sandal's tall heels, a torture she avoided as often as possible, and she had to make a concerted effort not to limp. She couldn't wait to get inside, peel the painful heels off, and shove her sore toes in a warm bath.

"Yeah, me too," Olivia murmured quietly in response to his comment, instantly feeling a stab of guilt for the half-truth. She hadn't had a horrible time, but it hadn't been particularly wonderful either. Still, it seemed like the right thing to say.

She had insisted that Jake didn't need to get out of the truck, that he didn't need to walk her to the door, but he had insisted equally adamantly that he did. From the way he hovered slightly behind her and kept a guiding hand on the small of her back, Olivia was able to deduce with minimal effort that he was really hoping for an invitation in.

_Not gonna happen._

Mrs. Leland had forgotten to leave the porch light on and the moon was blanketed by clouds, leaving only the distant street lamps as guiding lights. The dark was smothering, suffocating, as they walked up the porch stairs together. Eyes not fully adjusted, Olivia snagged the toe of one of her sandals on a stair, stumbling a bit before Jake caught her with a firm hand, holding on until she was steady enough to smile at him sheepishly.

Eventually reaching the front door in one piece, Olivia slowly withdrew her keys from her purse and prepared herself for the always awkward task of blowing off her date.

"Well, thanks Jake. It was fun tonight."

_Liar, liar._

"It was my pleasure." Jake's voice was low, husky, and thick with innuendo, and Olivia stifled a giggle at his rather pathetic attempt to seduce her. He was standing far closer than was strictly necessary, his broad shoulder brushing against hers awkwardly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his khakis. After a dinner chock full of courageous bravado, he looked nervous again, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His car keys jingled lightly as he fiddled with them in his pocket. "Could I, uh, come in?"

Sighing inaudibly, Olivia smiled kindly at Jake, lifting a hand to cup his face. In the minimal light, he looked way younger than he was. "I'm actually really tired. Sorry. I'm not up for company."

Jake nodded amiably, accepting that excuse good-naturedly and without apparent offense. "I understand. Can I see you again?"

Too soft-hearted to reject him twice in the same night, Olivia grudgingly agreed, trying to keep her voice light, breezy, and casual. "Okay, sure. Call me or stop by the house. We'll pick a time."

If her lack of enthusiasm was evident, Jake either didn't notice or didn't want to notice. "Cool."

When he smiled at her again, Olivia felt a flicker of disappointment that she wasn't more attracted to him. He was a good guy. She could certainly do worse. She HAD done worse. If only he wasn't so immature, if he was just a bit rougher, not so "pretty" . . .

A bit more like Elliot.

"Goodnight Jake." Olivia smiled one final time and had turned away to insert her key in the lock when Jake gently gripped her elbow, turned her back to face him, and kissed her softly.

He was a good kisser - not too pushy but not too passive. Despite her reservations, Olivia had to admit that it felt . . . nice. Good even. It felt even better when he put his hands on her hips to draw her closer and when those same hands slipped around and caressed the small of her back, making her shiver. She instinctively pressed herself against him and felt his lithe muscles, strong against his skin.

As he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, Olivia's internal debate raged on. Maybe she should invite him in. It had been a while since she had had sex. Even longer since she had had good sex. Many, many years since she had had incredible sex. What harm would it do to invite him in? It was no one's business but theirs after all.

Olivia's decision was made for her when a deep voice from the darkness killed the mood.

"You two want to take that inside? This isn't the French Quarter."

The words may have been joking, but the tone was anything but. Breaking the kiss, both Olivia and Jake jumped in surprise, whirling around and straining their eyes in the darkness to locate the familiar voice's owner. Olivia caught sight of Elliot first, lurking at the bottom of the porch stairs, one forearm resting against the wooden pillar. The darkness effectively cloaked his face, but she could see his eyes glittering dangerously.

Stiffening angrily at the intrusion, Olivia briefly considered grabbing Jake's hand and yanking him inside just to spite Elliot, but she didn't get the chance. Jake was already deferring to his superior, dropping his hands and backing away from her slowly. He didn't look happy, but Elliot looked downright menacing.

"I really should get going. I know you're tired. But I'll call you, okay?"

Olivia sighed, irritated. "Sure. Thanks again for everything."

"Goodnight Olivia. See you in the morning Sherriff." Slipping down the stairs and edging past Elliot, Jake disappeared into the darkness beyond where his truck waited patiently. After a moment, the truck's ignition caught and the former couple watched its red taillights until they vanished down the street.

Gritting her teeth, Olivia directed a fiery gaze at Elliot. A content smirk lingered on his face as he gazed arrogantly in the direction Jake had disappeared.

"You're an ass." Her hands trembling slightly in anger, Olivia shoved her key roughly into the lock.

"I know," Elliot chuckled. The porch stairs creaked as he walked up toward her, his expression serious once again. Silently, his light eyes slowly travelled up and down her body before darkening slightly. Despite her irritation, Olivia felt herself warming under his gaze.

Quickly forcing his facial expression back to neutral, Elliot spoke coolly. "Nice dress."

Olivia huffed at the compliment. "What the hell are you doing here? Nothing better to do than wait up for me?"

"Don't flatter yourself sweetheart," Elliot muttered darkly, moving right into her personal space, every bit as close as Jake had been moments earlier. Even in heels she was shorter than he was and his large frame dwarfed hers.

Anyone who didn't know Elliot would have been scared senseless.

"I just thought I would patrol the neighborhood, being as it is the site of the most recent break-in. You should be thanking me for keeping your block safe."

The porch light suddenly flicked on and they both blinked repeatedly in the bright light.

"Has the thief ever come back to the same place twice?" Olivia inquired harshly, her hands flying to her hips as she squinted into the light to look up at him.

Elliot's face paled slightly and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. "No. Not yet. But you never know." Releasing a loud sigh, he softened his tone. "Look, I didn't come here to fight with you."

"Good to know. So why did you come here?" Olivia's voice started off callous but petered out, her anger diminishing.

Body tensing, Elliot hesitated. Why was he here? Did he really want to be honest about that with himself, never mind her?

"I'm here to . . . ."

To what? Apologize for the way he had been treating her? To call a truce, so that Chase didn't have to witness two adults treating each other disrespectfully anymore? To tell her that he didn't hate her and that he didn't like her going out with Jake, even though it was not his place to say anything?

To tell her how amazing she looked in that dress?

But none of that was what came out.

"I'm here to pick up that list of stolen items from you."

Olivia looked at him quizzically, her chocolate eyes assessing as she scanned his face, searching for something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

After a moment, she nodded. "Okay, come in."

"I can wait out here if you just want to go grab it."

Better if he didn't go inside. Anxious energy was radiating from his shoulders and Elliot wondered absently how long he would be able to maintain a professional front.

Olivia glanced at him oddly, her skin glowing ethereally in the bright light. "Don't be ridiculous. Come in."

Twisting the handle, Olivia pushed open the door and disappeared inside as bright light from the kitchen poured out. Elliot took a deep breath before following behind her, hands still shoved in his pockets.

Mrs. Leland was standing awkwardly in the kitchen, pretending in vain that she hadn't been eavesdropping. A short, stout woman with strong, handsome features and gunmetal gray hair, she had been Serena's housekeeper for as long as Olivia could remember.

"Hello Olivia." Mrs. Leland's face brightened when she saw Elliot enter behind her, his expression somber. "Oh, hello Elliot! I thought Olivia was still out with Jake."

"Mrs. Leland." Elliot greeted her politely with a nod of his head, his eyes drifting back to Olivia as a cocky smile danced on his lips.

"Thank you so much for staying with Chase," Olivia blurted out quickly, hoping to avoid all discussion of her date as she lowered her purse to the counter. "Make sure the next time you need a day off you just take it."

Shaking her head, Mrs. Leland waved a dismissive hand. "It's no problem dear. He's such a good boy. He spent the entire night helping me around the house and talking about how much fun he had today with Elliot."

"I'm glad," Olivia said genuinely, shooting a warm smile involuntarily toward Elliot.

Patting her hair, Mrs. Leland grabbed her purse off the breakfast island and slung the worn leather strap over her shoulder. "Well, I'll be on my way and leave you two alone."

For some reason, Olivia suddenly felt compelled to insist that they didn't need to be alone, that Elliot would only be there for a minute, but she lost her opening when Elliot spoke.

"I'll walk you to your car while Olivia looks for something for me. With all the weirdness going on in this town lately, no one should walk alone. Even if it isn't very far. "

As soon as the screen door slapped shut behind them, Olivia took a deep, shaky breath and wiped her clammy hands on her dress. Inexplicably, she felt completely on edge. There was something in the air, something electric, something hard to pin down. The atmosphere was virtually crackling with it.

Frantically, Olivia tried to remember where she had put the list. The sooner she found it, the sooner she could hand it to Elliot, and the sooner he would be gone. When her addled brain finally started functioning again, Olivia crossed the room and flipped through the papers she kept in an unwieldy heap on top of the fridge. She was certain that was where she had put it, but her trembling fingers were having trouble locating it.

"You find it?"

Olivia hadn't heard the door open to signal his re-entry, but suddenly Elliot was right behind her. Right _right_ behind her, his deep voice echoing in her ear. When she backed up just a bit in surprise, she felt his chest brush against her back and heat flooded through her. At that moment, by sheer dumb luck, her fingers closed around the desired list and she removed it from the pile, slowly turning around to face him. Elliot was standing so close that, in order to avoid touching him, Olivia had to press her back firmly against the cool refrigerator, trapped between his strong body and the rumbling appliance.

A kiss was inevitable.

His mouth was hard, hot, and demanding, the complete opposite of the way Olivia remembered it. He was still an incredible kisser, but there was something forceful, something primitive about this kiss she had never experienced from him. He had always been so gentle with her before, so attentive. There was nothing tender, nothing tentative about him now. He kissed her hard, his tongue sneaking into her mouth as she whimpered with pleasure.

Her whimper encouraging him, Elliot drew her tight against his body. The contact short-circuited her brain, and Olivia slid her arms instinctively around his neck, her hands finding their way into his close cropped hair and caressing his scalp. It was then his turn to emit a groan of pleasure and his fingers tightened at her waist, digging into her skin through the fabric of her dress.

Without breaking the contact, Olivia dropped one of her hands down to his chest, exploring, his strong muscles straining against her fingertips. He tasted amazing, uniquely Elliot, and the magic he was working with his mouth had her dazed, confused, and wanting so much more. Stealthily, Olivia moved her hand under his t-shirt to his stomach and he trembled from the skin-to-skin contact. Fast losing all control, Elliot's fingers reached up to the back of her dress, searching frantically for the silver zipper that travelled down the back.

He needed to touch her, to feel her bare skin in intimate places.

Finally locating the zipper, Elliot tugged it down roughly. Halfway to the bottom, it snagged on the fabric and no matter how hard he tugged, it wouldn't budge.

"Dammit," Elliot muttered into her mouth and Olivia had to stifle a giddy giggle. His strong hands gripping her hips, he turned them both around and pushed her backward until they bumped into the breakfast island. Swiftly grabbing her thighs, Elliot hoisted her up easily onto the smooth counter.

Struggling to regain her equilibrium, Olivia's hand flailed backward, sending a silver pot on the counter to the floor with a ringing crash. Neither of them even noticed, their hands, mouths, and fingers still exploring territory that was vaguely familiar but also new. Drawing her hips forward, Elliot moved to stand between her thighs and Olivia gasped as he pressed against her. Fumbling, his hands trembling, he shoved the hem of her dress up roughly until Olivia could feel the cool marble of the countertop against the skin of her legs and backside. Reaching under the bunched fabric, Elliot groaned internally when he felt the enticing lace of her panties.

Breaking away from her mouth for only a moment, Elliot lowered his lips to her neck, biting and then quickly soothing the sting with a languid lick. Gasping and squirming away from the pleasurable pain, Olivia shoved him back forcefully, her actions belying her urgent need for him. Without a doubt, he was gunning to leave a mark, and she didn't even care.

"Jerk," Olivia muttered heatedly before yanking him back to her and closing her mouth on his, hands digging through his hair.

"I know," Elliot mumbled against her lips, his fingers reaching down and expertly exploring between her legs through the thin fabric of her panties. Olivia gasped with pleasure at his touch and threw her head back, breaking the kiss and effectively banging her head against the glass-windowed cabinets that sat above the breakfast island. Elliot slid a hand up until it tangled in her hair, caressing the sore spot gently, the back of his hand providing welcome protection against a repeat event.

"Elliot," Olivia whimpered, intense sensations hijacking and assaulting her logic centre. She needed him, needed more of him, needed all of him, and he sensed that. Dropping his hands to her hips again, he picked her up off the counter and effortlessly carried her over to the kitchen table, setting her down gently on top of it. Leaning forward, he kissed her hard again, his body pressing her back until she lay on the table, his hands once again bunching up her dress until it was around her waist. Olivia lifted her hips to accommodate his efforts as he drew her lacy panties down and off her legs, dropping them unceremoniously to the tiled floor.

Desire coursed through Olivia's body as Elliot's rough hands caressed her thighs. Pausing for a moment, he pulled back to look at her, his eyes dark with need. Elliot's heart thudded with a complex mix of emotion as she lay before him, exposed, vulnerable, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

They both knew how wrong this was.

There was still so much that needed to be said between them, still so much to sort out. Still so much that possibly _couldn't_ be sorted out.

But neither of them gave a damn.

Leaning back over her, supporting his weight on one strong arm, Elliot kissed her again, softer this time. He pulled her forward gently, her damp skin squealing on the lacquered tabletop, until he was poised between her legs again. Olivia's eyes fluttered closed in anticipation and, although she couldn't see, she could hear the tinkle of his belt buckle as he undid it, followed immediately by the sound of a zipper lowering.

Before either of them could think too much, could question the appropriateness of what was happening, could start analyzing their true feelings, he was inside her and they both groaned loudly.

It had been a while for Olivia, and Elliot wasn't exactly gentle, too caught up in his rampant need and violent emotions. She winced at the pressure initially, but the pain was quickly banished by pleasure as she adjusted to him. Hands gripping the edge of the table, Olivia arched her back under him and a long, low whimper escaped her lips, nearly driving Elliot crazy.

Christ, she was responsive. Any more responsive and he would have lost his damn mind. The far too few times they had made love twelve years ago, she had been more tentative, uncertain of her own body and what brought her pleasure.

Not anymore. There was nothing tentative about her now.

His arms shaking visibly with the effort, Elliot lowered his mouth to hers as he slowly withdrew and then thrust in again, grunting quietly. Olivia gasped and then moaned, a flood of pleasure making her entire body tingle. He filled her so completely and her body trembled as he ran a shaking hand along her sides, caressing her curves.

God, if he hit that spot just a couple more times . . .

Olivia's right hand left the edge of the counter, flying up to grip Elliot's shoulder so tightly she feared she would draw blood. He felt so good, so right, so natural and, with a needy whimper, she spread her legs further to accommodate more of him.

"Mom?"

A small voice from the direction of the stairs startled them both, their thumping hearts leaping up into their constricted throats. Elliot physically jumped back, stumbling in his haste to move away. Olivia quickly pushed herself off the table with a squeak, rearranging her dress while Elliot tucked himself back into his pants.

"What's the matter Chase?" Olivia called out guiltily, smoothing her dress down over her hips and trying to straighten her disheveled hair. Thinking quickly, Elliot picked up Olivia's panties and smoothly hid them under her purse.

A second later, Chase's freckled face peered around the corner of the entrance to the kitchen, his sandy hair sticking up haphazardly. "I heard a noise. I was worried it was the robber again." His chocolate eyes shifted to Elliot, who was attempting furtively to inch his way toward the front door and escape. Chase's face brightened when he recognized Olivia's companion. "Oh, hi Elliot!"

"I'm sorry I woke you honey," Olivia soothed quickly, trying to divert his attention from Elliot and the questions she knew were brewing in his intelligent little mind. Willing her hands to stop shaking, she pointed to the pot on the floor. "I just knocked a pot off the counter. It's okay. Why don't you run back up to your room and I'll be up in a second to tuck you in."

Curiosity dancing on his young features, Chase didn't budge, his dark eyes flicking back and forth amusedly between Elliot and Olivia.

Reaching over to the breakfast island, Olivia hastily grabbed the list for Elliot and shoved it at him. "Here's the list. Thanks Elliot. I'll, uh, see you later."

"Yeah. Sure. Have a good night." Elliot snatched the list from her hands quickly, spinning on his heels and bolting for the door, his ears fire engine red. Within seconds he had vanished into the darkness beyond, the screen door snapping closed behind him.

"Alright, back to bed!" Olivia insisted brightly, quickly ushering Chase into the living room and back up the stairs. Chase said nothing as they walked but his wide smirk spoke volumes. Olivia's face burned with embarrassment and she imagined her ears were every bit as red as Elliot's.

"What are you grinning about, Chuckles?" Olivia joked nervously as she herded Chase up the stairs, one hand firmly on his bony shoulder.

"Nothing," Chase smirked as he glanced toward the top of the steps, his eyes dancing merrily as if laughing at a private, internal joke. "Were you and Elliot going to have sex?"

Olivia's face paled and she stared at Chase in shock, momentarily halting their upward progress. "Chase! How do you know what sex is? You are only eleven years old. Did you learn about sex in school already?"

Chase rolled his eyes. "Duh Mom. I read about it on Wikipedia."

Olivia almost laughed despite herself. "No Chase, we were not about to have sex."

Technically, not a lie. They _had_ been having sex. They weren't _about_ to have it.

A wide grin still spread across his face, Chase's eyes twinkled merrily as he continued climbing the stairs.

"Okay Mom. If you say so."


	10. Memories

**Chapter 9 – Memories**

Memories are a crooked thing.

Deceitful. Malevolent. Treacherous.

Good, and also evil.

They can buoy, energize, fuel happiness. They can also deflate, destroy, breed hopelessness.

Punish . . .

The first day of July in Portside had dawned bright and beautiful, but by mid afternoon colossal clouds had spawned over the blue-green ocean, accumulating like stacked bricks until all blue sky had been neutralized and replaced by a solemn ceiling of gray. The air was saturated with the smell of rain and the breeze had picked up, flinging loose leaves into tiny, free-standing twisters.

Pleasant, no. Appropriate, absolutely.

The gloomy weather matched Olivia's morose mood perfectly as she sat curled up on her mother's striped fabric couch, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, a shoebox full of memories literally at her feet. The real estate agent she had hired to sell her mother's house had arrived an hour ago, sullen prospective buyer in tow. They had spent almost forty-five minutes prowling around the large five-bedroom Victorian, the agent enthusiastically hyping up its good features while the buyer steadfastly dwelled on its drawbacks. To stop herself from eavesdropping shamelessly and raising her dwindling hopes, Olivia had trudged up to the attic to begin sorting through the mounds of junk her mother had stored there for eons.

The generous attic had been overcrowded since Olivia was a child, a veritable dumping ground for all the stuff her mother deemed useless but was unwilling to part with. The dusty floor space vaguely resembled the Manhattan skyline, covered as it was with a mass of hulking, sheet-draped shapes of varied height. Under one dust slip an antique bureau lay dormant; under another, a hand carved rocking horse stood motionless. In the far corner of the room, an old armchair and a musty trunk held court, and Olivia had cursed when she stubbed her big toe on the bulky box. It had been within that offending trunk, buried deep under a pile of her mother's old dresses, that Olivia had found the mauve, gilt-edged shoebox, filled to overflowing with old snapshots.

When Olivia returned downstairs, sore toe throbbing and shoebox tucked under her arm, the real estate agent and prospective buyer were on their way out. After blatantly giving Olivia the once over, the buyer had murmured noncommittally about "checking his finances" and "getting back to her".

In other words, not interested. At least not in the house.

At this rate, she was going to have to give the damn place away.

Once her visitors had vanished out the door, Olivia limped into the living room and settled herself onto the soft couch, rubbing her sore toe gingerly. Sneezing several times thanks to the remnants of attic dust that lingered on top of the shoebox, she carefully removed the lid and released the memories inside.

The snapshots were in no particular order, a jumbled mass of colors and images shoved haphazardly into the cardboard box. The first handful Olivia removed were mostly pictures of her mother when she was younger, beautiful and smiling. Before the rape. Before the alcohol abuse. Before Olivia.

The good ole days.

There were also stunning photographs of some of the exotic places Serena had visited, mixed in illogically with candid shots of family and friends, some of whom Olivia recognized, but barely.

Stuffed under the vacation photos were a few pictures of Chase as a baby, roly-poly and all smiles. A lump forming in her scratchy throat, Olivia's heart constricted as she ran a finger along the edge of one of the pictures. Her little man. He was growing up so fast. When she thought about it, Olivia was mildly surprised her mother had kept the pictures at all. Serena had only visited them in New York a few times, never for very long, and she hadn't formed any bond with Chase worth speaking of. Still, she had kept the pictures. In Serena's world, that meant something.

It was the pile of pictures nestled at the bottom of the box that really tugged painfully on Olivia's heartstrings. They were pictures that had decorated her own room once upon a time, some pinned to the beige corkboard that hung on the wall above her desk, others lodged in the frame of her mirror.

Pictures she had left behind twelve years ago as she lugged her worn suitcase out to Alex's Jeep.

Pictures she had assumed had been ripped down by her mother, destroyed, burnt perhaps. Certainly not tucked safely into an old, dusty shoebox.

Pictures of her and Elliot.

The photo on the top of the pile had been taken one night on the beach. She and Elliot had been cuddling on a lounge chair by the campfire, wrapped snugly in a multi-colored blanket. In that photo, snapped by a friend, they both smiled happily, their young faces bright. The other pictures were equally cheerful - Olivia smearing chocolate-iced birthday cake on Elliot's face; Olivia and Elliot sitting on the Stabler's front porch, Elliot's arm slung possessively over his girlfriend's shoulders; the two of them at the Stratford County Fair, sharing a huge mint chocolate chip ice cream cone. There was also a strip of black and white photos from an old-fashioned photo booth, each frame depicting the two of them making silly faces or kissing for the camera. Despite the poor quality of the image, the happiness that gleamed in their eyes was unmistakable.

"Knock knock."

A voice in the living room entranceway made Olivia jump, jerking her brusquely away from the heartwarming memories that had nearly reduced her to tears.

"Jesus Alex, you scared the life out of me!" Olivia gasped as she put a hand to her chest automatically, her heart thumping rapidly against her dusty palm.

"Sorry." Alex jerked a well-manicured thumb toward the front door as she leaned against the wall, a pair of jean shorts and a white T-shirt hugging her slim body. "I knocked. When you didn't answer, I let myself in. You shouldn't leave your front door unlocked you know. This isn't the same safe Portside we grew up in."

"You're absolutely right. Case in point. Look what kind of riffraff just wandered in," Olivia teased her friend, dropping the photos she had been clutching onto the coffee table. "Sorry I didn't hear you. I was sorting through some of Mom's stuff. Lost in thought."

Pushing off the wall, Alex drew her long blonde hair away from her damp neck and strolled over to the overstuffed chair that sat on the opposite side of the coffee table. Lowering herself onto the cushion with a grunt, she glanced out through the picture window at the billowing storm clouds. "It's going to start pouring any minute. I made it over just in time. How did the viewing go? Your buyer seem interested?"

"No," Olivia sighed, shaking her dark head resignedly, her ponytail bobbing. "I'm going to have to lower the price again."

Alex frowned, wiping a line of sweat from her brow. "It's already a great deal Olivia. Don't give up and cheat yourself out of money. The right buyer will come along."

Olivia shrugged, picking at a piece of lint on her blue sweatpants. "Maybe. I just don't have a lot of time. I really want it to sell before the end of summer so I can get all the paperwork signed and out of the way. It's my own fault. I should have put it on the market right after Mom died. I just couldn't bring myself to do it."

"This is your childhood home. It's full of memories," Alex reflected rationally, stretching out a polished toenail to tap against the underside of the table. "Selling it is never an easy thing to do."

"I guess." Olivia stood, cracking her tense knuckles lightly as she stretched. "I need a drink. I bought some fantastic red wine the other day, you want a glass?"

"No thanks," Alex declined politely as Olivia disappeared into the kitchen, her bare feet scuffling against the carpet. Reaching across the coffee table absently, Alex curiously pulled the worn shoebox closer. "Jim and I are trying to get pregnant again, so I've given up drinking for a bit, just in case. A glass of water would be great though."

Olivia returned moments later, a glass of water in one hand and a glass of blood red wine in the other. Lowering Alex's drink onto one of her mother's old cork coasters, she sank back down onto the couch with a smile, cradling the base of her wine glass.

"More babies huh? How many do you and Jim want?"

Alex shrugged and sipped her water, fingers flicking mindlessly through the photos in the box. "Well, I think Jim would be happy with just the two, but I would like one more. We were lucky to have a girl and a boy, but my biological clock is telling me I'm not quite done yet."

"Got to love that damn clock. Well, you're still young. Lots of time yet."

A momentary silence fell between the friends as Olivia glanced out the picture window and Alex flipped through the photos, smiling slightly at the sight of people she recognized. A few droplets of rain stained the outside glass, running slowly down the smooth surface like wayward tears to pool on the sill.

"How about you?" Alex glanced up momentarily before returning her attention to the photos. "Chase is older now. You ever think about having another baby?"

Eyes still focused out the window, Olivia's mouth curled up into a sad, twisted half smile. "I would love more, but I can't. Believe me, I tried. I miscarried three times. Twice while pregnant with Phil's babies, once while pregnant with Shaun's. Shaun and I kept trying after my third miscarriage, but we couldn't conceive. Guess something in my plumbing is screwed up. Pretty much par for the course with me."

Alex's eyes were sympathetic, soft, the photos momentarily forgotten. "Liv, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Olivia shrugged, brushing it off. "It's fine. It is what it is."

"It sucks."

Olivia laughed lightly and with far less care than she felt. "Yeah, you could say that. It certainly wreaked havoc on my marriages. I still maintain that my struggle to carry a baby to term was a huge reason Phil left me, although he denies it. He found another woman who could give him the babies he wanted so desperately. They are married now, and have at least a handful. I've lost count."

Alex frowned, taking a sip of her water. "That's damn ungrateful. You gave him Chase, who is a wonderful kid. And it's not like you had any contr-."

Realizing her slip-up the same second Alex did, Olivia froze, watching realization dawn in her friend's sky blue eyes.

"Wait a minute . . ." Alex drawled slowly, a smile quirking at the corner of her lips, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Phil isn't Chase's father, is he?"

Olivia paused for a moment to imbibe a healthy swallow of her wine, then sighed. "No, he isn't."

Alex didn't miss a beat, her intelligent mind making the obvious connection. "Elliot is."

It wasn't a question.

Olivia sighed reluctantly, lowering her long-stemmed wine glass to the coffee table and clasping her hands in her lap, wringing them together. "Yes. He is."

Chortling, Alex clapped her hands together merrily. "I knew it! Well, I didn't know it _exactly_, but I wondered. He looked to be around the right age. I can't believe Elliot didn't say anything to me before now. Twelve years. The man can keep a secret!"

"He doesn't know," Olivia confided quickly, tucking a loose strand of glossy hair behind her ears. "And you have to promise me you won't say anything. It needs to come from me, and I'm . . . working on it. You, Phil, and Bernie are the only ones who know. Chase doesn't know either."

"Of course I won't say anything," Alex reassured her friend, face serious for only a moment before a grin blossomed again. "You've got to admit, your life is straight out of a soap opera."

Reflecting back on the events of the previous night, Olivia chuckled dryly.

Her friend didn't even know the half of it.

Smiling, Alex picked up the photo booth prints from the table, examining them with a thoughtful eye. "You two were so perfect together. You really were."

And they were, as much as Olivia wanted to forget that. They looked so happy in those pictures, so utterly in love. Olivia's childhood had hardly been picturesque. Her mom had often been distant, cold. When she drank, she could also be physically and verbally abusive. Olivia had carried a lot of weight on her shoulders during her teenage years, but the strain was not at all evident in the pictures. She looked happy, carefree, when she was with Elliot.

How different would her life have been if she had stayed?

Catching the distant, melancholic look on her friend's face, Alex let the strip of pictures flutter back to the table.

"So where is little Elliot Junior anyway?" she joked, reaching for her water with an evil grin on her face.

Olivia laughed despite herself. "Out with Elliot Senior's nephew. Joe was getting together a group of boys to play baseball and he asked Chase if he wanted to join. Chase was over the moon. It's nice to see him being included."

Straightening up suddenly, Alex's eyes took on a mischievous glint. "Geez, I almost forgot the real reason I stopped over. How was your date with Jake last night?"

Olivia groaned, tucking her legs underneath her and grabbing her wine glass. "It was okay. Nothing wonderful, but nothing horrible. He's a nice guy, but I can't see him as anything more than a friend."

Alex raised a quizzical eyebrow, gazing at Olivia over the rim of her tumbler. "Just a friend huh? Your 'just a friend' left a hell of a hickey on your neck."

Startled, Olivia's hand shot up to her neck as she groaned internally. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She had noticed the mark earlier and meant to neutralize it with foundation, but had somehow gotten distracted. Unchecked, it was flamboyant, red, and obvious. Oh, what the realtor and buyer must have thought . . .

Realizing Alex was still awaiting details, Olivia dropped her eyes to the coffee table, olive skin turning crimson. "That, uh, wasn't Jake."

Alex blinked a few times in rapid succession. "What do you mean?"

"It wasn't Jake who gave me the hickey," Olivia clarified quietly, shuffling the pictures around on the table in the hopes of distracting Alex.

No such luck. It didn't work. But it was worth a try.

"So who the hell did?" Alex inquired sharply as she leaned forward, the water in her tumbler sloshing.

Olivia sighed, her fingers tugging nervously on her ponytail. "It was Elliot."

Frowning, Alex stared at her for a long moment, her eyes dancing as she tried to comprehend this latest bit of information. Finally she burst out laughing, a jolly, throaty sound that echoed throughout the room.

"Elliot? You're pulling my leg, right? To get back at me for the Elliot Junior comment?"

When Olivia's expression didn't change, Alex's laughter dissipated and her jaw dropped. "Holy fuck. You're serious, aren't you?"

Downing the last of her wine, Olivia sighed and explained reluctantly. "I'm dead serious. After an extremely boring dinner, Jake insisted on walking me to my door. We ended up kissing on the porch, and suddenly, boom, there's Elliot. It was completely unnerving. He claimed he was just routinely patrolling the neighborhood."

Alex snorted derisively. "Bull. He was checking up on you."

Olivia waved that possibility away. "No, I don't think so. He was just being a prick. He's stressed right now because of all the break-ins, and he's taking it out on poor Jake. Anyway, long story short, Elliot shows up and Jake takes off. After we bicker on the porch for a minute, Elliot asks me for the list I made of things that were stolen from the house. I invite him in to get the list, and the next thing I know, we're fooling around."

"Kissing?"

"That. And then some."

Alex squealed, clapping her hands together joyously. "I knew it! I knew it was just a matter of time. So he spent the night?"

Olivia sighed. "Not exactly. We never made it to the bedroom. Never even made it out of the kitchen."

Spurred on by her friend's rabid interest, Olivia recounted the entire story, complete with literally anti-climatic ending. Afterwards, doubled over, Alex laughed heartily for a full ten minutes before she was finally able to speak again.

"Wow. You and Elliot getting "reacquainted" on the kitchen table. I freaking love it. Your son needs to work on his timing."

Feeling suddenly lighter, Olivia laughed. "You aren't kidding. Man, I wouldn't have needed much longer, and I'm pretty sure Elliot wouldn't have either. Poor Chase. He was nearly traumatized for life."

Grabbing a tissue and dabbing at her sodden eyes, Alex couldn't wipe the grin off her face. "So what does this mean? Are you two back together again?"

Olivia's smile faded slightly. "I don't think so Alex. It was just sex. Incredible sex, but just sex nonetheless. It didn't mean anything."

_Liar_.

"Sure it didn't," Alex drawled with a roll of her eyes. "Liv, I know you. You don't do 'just sex'. If you did, you wouldn't have been a virgin for as long as you were." Leaning into the cushions of her chair, Alex hooked a slender arm over the back, her face growing serious. "You need to talk to him Liv. Now more than ever. About everything."

Olivia sighed reluctantly, rubbing her eyes with white knuckles. "I know, I know."

Biting her bottom lip thoughtfully, Alex regarded her friend as she drummed her nails on her bare leg. "You still care for him a lot, don't you?"

"He's the father of my son, and the first man I ever loved. I will always care for him."

"No, it's more than that." Alex leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her knees as she stared intently at Olivia. "You're still in love with him."

"No, I'm not," Olivia protested sharply, standing up and gathering the photos that had migrated across the coffee table. Grabbing handfuls at a time, she thrust them almost violently back into the shoebox. "We've been over for a long time. We've both moved on."

"If you say so." The sing-songy quality to Alex's tone clearly suggested she didn't agree, but Olivia was relieved of any obligation to further defend herself when the sound of small feet on the wooden porch signaled Chase's return home.

"Let it go Alex," Olivia insisted firmly, stuffing the last of the photos into the shoebox and replacing the lid. Striding over to the small desk in the corner, she shoved the box into one of the nearly empty bottom drawers. "Chase is home. I don't want him hearing any of this. He's already almost seen too much."

"Mom!" As if on cue, the voice of the young man himself echoed through the kitchen and into the living room. "I'm home!"

"In the living room Chase," Olivia called. "Make sure you take your shoes off!"

There was the sound of scuffling in the front foyer as Chase kicked off his dirty cleats. Seconds later, he bounded into the living room, smudges of dirt dueling with the wide smile on his face. He skidded to a stop when he saw Alex, his face blushing red.

"Hey you." Olivia smiled affectionately at her lanky son. "You remember my friend Alex, right?"

Chase nodded and spoke quietly, staring at the floor shyly. "Hi."

"Hi Chase," Alex greeted him cheerfully, her blue eyes assessing as she searched for the little signs of Elliot in him that Olivia saw every day.

"How was the game?" Olivia asked, thankful for the distraction.

"It was so awesome!" Chase exclaimed excitedly, momentarily forgetting to be shy. His sandy head lifted as he met his mother's eyes with a bright grin. "I made two good catches and hit a triple. My team won."

"That's wonderful Buddy," Olivia praised with a smile. Trying to remember the last time she had seen Chase as happy, she couldn't.

"It gets even better," Chase continued, his brown eyes sparkling. "Elliot coaches a team that plays some other small town teams in the area, just for fun. He was watching us play and he wants me to join the team. One of the other guys broke his ankle last week and they need someone to take his place at short stop. Can I Mom, please?"

"Yeah, can he Mom? Please?"

His deep voice preceding him, Elliot suddenly appeared behind Chase. Clad in his Sherriff's uniform, he looked as handsome as ever. Olivia felt herself flush, Technicolor memories of the previous night fresh in her mind. Chancing a glance at Alex, Olivia caught her staring at Elliot, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

If Elliot was similarly affected by the previous night's activities, it didn't show. Nodding briefly but politely at Olivia and Alex, he quickly turned to Chase, holding out a small white glove. "You forgot your batting glove in the car."

"Thank you," Chase chirped cheerfully, taking the glove and smiling broadly as he turned back to look at Olivia. "So can I Mom? Please?" Dancing back and forth in place, he waited impatiently for her answer.

"Absolutely," Olivia finally agreed with a smile, her eyes flicking back and forth between her son and Elliot.

_Their son._

"Awesome," Chase exclaimed, pumping air with a fist. Looking up, he smiled brightly at Elliot. "I'm in Coach!"

Elliot chuckled, ruffling Chase's hair lightly. "Welcome to the team kid."

Excusing himself to shower and change at Olivia's suggestion, Chase dashed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, leaving the adults to lapse into a weighty silence. Elliot lounged languidly in the entranceway, his hands shoved into his pockets and his jaw working beneath his skin. Olivia stared at the coffee table as if it were the most fascinating piece of furniture she had ever seen, her trembling hands squeezed between her knees.

Alex remained seated in the chair, her eyes flitting back and forth between Olivia and Elliot, smirking like the cat that swallowed the proverbial canary. But only for a moment. Suddenly realizing that her presence was impeding the conversation Elliot and Olivia so badly needed to have, Alex jolted straight up out of her chair, nearly dumping her water in the process.

"Well, I should be going," she declared, one hand gripping her glass as she wiped the other on her jean shorts. Bee lining for the kitchen to leave her glass in the sink, Alex kept chattering to ease the tense silence. "I'll see you both later. Call me Liv. So we can _talk._"

The obvious emphasis on the final word made Olivia cringe. Alex was as subtle as a freight train.

"I sure will. Bye Alex," Olivia called through slightly gritted teeth, a tight smile on her face.

Alex and Elliot exchanged similar departing pleasantries and Olivia assumed her friend was headed for the door when suddenly Alex's head popped out from behind Elliot. Eyes wide, she motioned meaningfully to her friend's former lover and clearly mouthed the words "Talk to him!" Grinning as Olivia shot her a venomous look, Alex made a lascivious gesture and then disappeared from sight. Moments later, the sound of the screen door snapping shut signaled her exit.

Drawing a deep breath, Olivia smiled uncertainly at Elliot. Best to start with a safe topic. "Thanks for asking Chase to join the team. It means a lot to him."

"He's a good player," Elliot shrugged, still standing awkwardly in the doorway. Although he knew there was no reason for him to stay, he seemed unable to leave. "He play before?"

Olivia nodded, fiddling with her empty glass. "A little when he was younger. Phil signed him up every year. After the divorce, I told him he could still play, but he said he didn't want to." Olivia shrugged, her shoulders slumping slightly. "It was always something he did with Phil. Guess it wasn't the same without him."

Elliot nodded absently, slowly raising his expressive eyes to meet hers as he crossed strong arms over his chest. Olivia fought the urge to lick her lips as she stared at his sinewy forearms, remembering how they felt around her, holding her tight as he kissed her, his skilled hands in her hair, caressing her shoulders, pressing into her back, separating her thighs . . . .

"So . . . uh . . . . about last night-"

"Listen, last night-"

Clearing their throats simultaneously, Olivia and Elliot started talking at the same time, stopped, and then laughed nervously.

"You first," Olivia offered, twisting the thin gold ring that encircled one of her fingers.

Elliot took a deep breath and slowly released it. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about last night."

Olivia blinked. Not the response she had been expecting.

"Uh, you are?"

Elliot nodded, seemingly calm but unable to meet her eyes. "Yeah, I don't know what got into me. It was a complete lapse of judgment."

"Uh, yeah," Olivia agreed slowly, awkwardly. "On both our parts."

Elliot nodded feverishly now as if to convince them both. "Yeah. There has just been so much stress at work. I guess I needed an . . . outlet. I got carried away, and I apologize for that. Don't worry, I won't ever put you in that situation again."

Of course. That's what she was to him. A means to an end for stress relief. A quick fuck to wash away the day's tension.

It shouldn't have bothered her. It's not like she hoped it would be any different.

Olivia cleared her throat, twirling her ponytail on a finger. "Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page, and we are."

_Not_.

Elliot looked relieved, his tense muscles relaxing. "Yeah, good. Glad we got that out in the open. I should get going I guess."

Olivia nodded, her voice stilted. "Okay. Well, thanks for stopping by."

Elliot immediately turned as if to leave and then hesitated. Slowly, he pivoted around to face her again. Taking a deep breath, he finally made eye contact.

"Olivia, I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you lately. A lot of the things I've said, they were mean, and uncalled for. I'm not going to lie. I'm still very . . . angry at you. But just because we didn't work out, that doesn't mean I have to be a prick. I promise from now on, I will watch what comes out of my mouth. We won't ever be friends, but I don't want us to be enemies either."

Olivia nodded slowly, her heart crumbling, morphing into tiny shards that trickled down to her stomach where they stabbed vengefully. Biting the inside of her cheek hard to control her emotions, she wanted to say so much more, but all she could manage was one, insufficient word.

"Okay."

Elliot nodded decisively as he absently ran a meaty hand down the painted wall, his eyes tracking the movement before looking back up at her. "So I'll see you around?"

"Okay." Again, that word. Even though nothing was.

With a small smile, Elliot turned and disappeared into the kitchen. Only when she heard the sound of his heavy boots on the porch did Olivia allow a strangled sob to escape, doubling over on the couch to try and ease the agony in her gut. A lone tear followed closely behind the sob, and Olivia angrily reached up and swiped at it with the back of her hand, smearing attic dirt across her cheek. Her eyes fell to the desk where she knew that shoebox full of memories mocked her.

_You're an idiot Olivia. What did you expect? That he would profess his love for you because you spread your legs for him? He already thinks you're a whore. You just proved him right._

Before she had consciously decided on a plan of action, Olivia shot off the couch and through the kitchen, flying out onto the front porch. A ways down the driveway, Elliot had already made it to his patrol car, his hand gripping the silver door handle. He halted when she called his name, but didn't turn immediately, staring instead into the driver's side window for a moment before eventually pivoting to face her. His expression was blank, but his blue eyes were as tortured as a stormy sea.

He never stopped watching her as she approached, but said nothing.

Taking a deep breath, Olivia opened her mouth to come clean, to tell him everything that had happened twelve years ago, to confide her fears, to share the real reasons why she had run.

But what did it matter now?

He had made it clear. There was no future for him that included her in any way, shape, or form. And nothing was going to change that.

_We won't ever be friends._

What was the point then in dredging up old hurts that were already painfully close to the surface? What would that accomplish?

When Olivia finally spoke, even she was surprised by what came out.

"We had something good once, didn't we?"

Elliot smiled, more than a bit sadly. Gently, he reached up and let his thumb slide across her cheek, removing the smudge of attic dirt from her porcelain skin. Dropping his hand slowly, he let a thumb linger on her chin for just a moment before nodding.

"Yeah. We sure did."


	11. Battle

_A/N – This chapter is rated 'M' for adult content._

**Chapter 10 – Battle**

"_Are you awake?"_

_The first thing he felt was her soft, gentle hands on his back. Caressing, massaging, tracing the defined muscles until he shivered. Circling his shoulder blades. Following the knobby trail of his spine, only stilling when they met the waistband of his boxer shorts. _

"_Mmmm, getting there," Elliot murmured as he rolled onto his back, his blue eyes squinty with sleep. Sighing contently, he nestled his head into the pillow, gazing up at the vision above him. Olivia's beautiful face was puffy with sleep, her wavy mahogany hair mussed, her dark eyes red rimmed, her lips full and swollen. _

_Elliot groaned, twitching as his erection strained against the fabric of his boxers. Reaching up, he brushed errant hair out of Olivia's face. "How is it possible that you look incredibly sexy when you first wake up and I just look rumpled?"_

_Olivia laughed lightly, her fingertips tracing the contours of his face as she cuddled against him._

"_Not fair, is it?" she teased, kissing his clavicle gently. Elliot groaned deeper, tangling his hand in her hair and pulling her mouth up to meet his. She lifted herself and straddled him as they kissed, lowering her body on top of his. The delicate silk of her nightgown whispered over his skin, sensitizing every patch it touched. Releasing her hair, Elliot's strong hands drifted down, molding to her curves, enjoying the yielding softness of her body. When he reached the hem of her short nightgown, he probed curiously underneath, pleasantly surprised to feel nothing but smooth skin._

_Breaking away from Olivia's demanding mouth, Elliot moved his lips to nibble at the strap of her nightgown. "I'm pretty sure you had panties on when you fell asleep last night. What happened?"_

_Olivia shrugged, the movement pressing Elliot's mouth against her slender shoulder. He bit there softly and she smacked him lightly. "I was just trying to be proactive."_

"_Yeah, you're very forward thinking that way," Elliot murmured, grabbing her hips and positioning them over his. With her assistance, he shimmied out of his boxers, kicking them off the end of the bed carelessly before she lowered herself onto him. They both groaned at the mind-numbing sensation, their eyes fluttering closed at virtually the same time._

"_Damn, how are you so tight every time?" Elliot asked through gritted teeth. In response, Olivia sunk lower, until he could feel himself pressed against her cervix. She exhaled loudly and slowly opened her eyes to meet his as they both adjusted._

"_Maybe you're getting bigger," Olivia whispered, shifting a little on his lap to get comfortable. Elliot's eyes almost crossed from the pleasure._

"_You wish," he whispered back and she laughed lightly, her hips moving in a slow rhythm. Her hands dropped to his chest to support her weight, the early morning light glittering off her diamond wedding band. Elliot never stopped watching her as her eyes squeezed shut, her attention completely focused on the sensations raging through her body. _

"_God El, so good," Olivia moaned as she straightened and moved her hands to her thighs, effortlessly maintaining her rhythm. Grunting his agreement, Elliot caressed her body through the soft silk. Needing more, Olivia took one of his rough hands and slowly, suggestively, slipped it under her nightgown. She let out a loud cry of pleasure when he touched her intimately, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle any further sounds._

"_Shhh Liv," Elliot chuckled, his talented fingers still teasing. "You'll wake the kids."_

_She wasn't able to respond to that, her attention refocused on the heat building in her body, her muscles straining desperately to achieve an explosive release._

"_I'm so close," Olivia whimpered after a moment, her face a perfect portrait of the pleasure he was giving her. _

"_I know," Elliot whispered, the warming metal of his wedding band pressing against her thigh as he stroked her. "I can feel it."_

And then he woke up.

The sound of his heavy law book crashing to the floor startled Elliot back into consciousness. He jerked up into a sitting position on the leather couch that ran along the short wall in his home office, blinking rapidly and struggling to get his bearings. After a moment, his body relaxed and he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

Just a dream.

Except for the arousal. That was very, very real.

He had been re-examining his case notes, his law text balanced precariously on his lap, when he dozed off on the couch. Said notes were now scattered on the floor, some crushed beneath the heavy textbook, others peeking out from under the couch.

"Dammit," Elliot grunted, running a weary hand over his face. His back ached from sleeping on the unforgiving couch and his bones creaked as he stood, moving over to sit in his desk chair.

He had had way too many dreams like that lately.

Outside, the sky was at its darkest, dawn still several hours away. The Stabler household was quiet as a tomb, all of the occupants except Elliot sleeping soundly. Aside from the occasional creak of shifting floorboards, the light flap of the office curtains in the breeze, and his own unsteady breathing, there was no sound.

The apology should have helped him sleep, but it didn't.

Not the night immediately following their conversation, or the night after that. Not even three nights later did it facilitate a drift into slumber.

It should have been cathartic, should have soothed his guilty conscience, lightened his mental load.

But it wasn't, and it didn't.

Elliot had spent the last two nights after his brief conversation with Olivia sleeping fitfully at best. He tossed and turned violently, his mind a cog that never stopped turning. It shouldn't have been that way. His anger with Olivia was out in the open now. It wasn't trapped inside anymore, broiling his insides, escaping only in sharp, snide little comments intended to maim. He had been truthful about his feelings, at least those he was capable of expressing. She knew where he stood.

So why did he still feel like shit?

Last night, Elliot had finally abandoned the idea of sleep, opting instead to devote further unproductive time to the break-ins. Hunkering down in his wood-paneled office, he had forced himself to stare at his case notes until his eyes were raw. Still seeing nothing. Still thinking of Olivia.

Always Olivia.

He felt guilty for his behavior that night in her kitchen, he really did. He had been rough, forceful, possessed by a ridiculous desire to have her, to mark her, inside and out.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. There was far too much baggage between them to permit a normal, healthy relationship, even a sexual one.

He had known that.

And he was a damn hypocrite for wanting to hear anything else.

When she ran out after him three days ago, Elliot had felt a spark of both hope and dread - hope that the truth was finally going to come out, and dread that he might finally have an answer to the questions he had carried around with him for twelve years. Why had she left him? Had he said something to upset her? Had he hurt her when they made love? Had he scared her away by rushing the marriage? Was there someone else, this 'Phil' guy maybe?

Had she seen him and Kathy, kissing on the couch?

No, no. She couldn't have. His Olivia was honest, direct, fearless. If she had seen that, she would have called him on it. She would have given him the opportunity to explain himself.

No, that couldn't be the reason why she left.

So why had she?

When his cell phone shrilled loudly, vibrating frantically across the desk, Elliot glanced at the clock on the wall.

Four a.m. No good was going to come of this call.

Snagging the dancing phone, Elliot flipped open the cover and glanced at the display.

Jake.

"What's going on?" Elliot grunted, his voice hoarse.

"Chief, there's been another break-in." Jake's voice was unsteady, and Elliot heard him take a deep breath on the other end of the line to calm it.

"And this time, someone got hurt."

* * *

'Someone' was eighty-eight year old Melvin Bishop, a lifelong resident of Portside affectionately known as 'the Birdman' in light of his propensity to spend long hours of the day bird watching. His backyard was a colorful cornucopia of birdhouses, all different shapes and sizes, which he kept full of bird seed year round. Even in the early morning hours, many of the houses were already occupied by Melvin's twittering feathered friends.

The ambulance had come and gone by the time Elliot arrived, his gun tucked into the waistband of his gray sweatpants. Jake was already there, clad in a pair of jeans and a red T-shirt that went nicely with the blood stain on the floor. He looked shaken, and Elliot momentarily felt bad for him. Jake's exposure to violence since arriving in Portside to serve as Deputy had been minimal, and he was not prepared for it. Even Elliot felt a little queasy as he stared down at the puddle of blood on the tile floor.

"How's Melvin?" Elliot asked in lieu of a greeting, cracking his stiff knuckles.

Jake kept staring at the floor as he bit his bottom lip. "He's stable. They've taken him to Merrickville Hospital to get stitched up. Head wound. A lot of blood. He was in and out of consciousness, but he should be okay."

"He able to give us anything useful?"

Jake shook his head and ran a trembling hand over his face. "Not much. He apparently came downstairs and surprised the perp. I doubt he heard anything. Melvin's pretty deaf. He'd have to be to not be annoyed by the bird symphony in his backyard. Odds are he came downstairs to get a drink of water or something and by sheer dumb luck ran into the guy."

"I wouldn't call that luck, not for Melvin," Elliot murmured, returning his gaze to the blood lake on the floor.

Jake shrugged. "No, guess not. He says the perp is definitely a man. Had a 'manly build'. Beyond that, he didn't see much. Average height, average weight. The perp wore a black mask, so Melvin didn't see his face, but said the visible skin around his eyes was white, so we are looking for a Caucasian."

"No shortage of those around here," Elliot grunted. "This certainly isn't going to help narrow our suspect pool much. Back to praying for prints."

Jake nodded. "That's for sure. Anyway, guy beaned Melvin in the head with a cookie sheet. Had a lot of force behind it, made a ridiculous dent. Left a nasty cut on the top of Melvin's head too."

Elliot sighed loudly and ran a rough hand over his unshaven face. "Dammit. The guy is either getting careless or desperate. He used to break in when no one was home. He took a chance with this one, and Melvin paid the price. Anything missing?"

"Melvin mumbled something about his expensive digital camera equipment, uses it to take pictures of the birds. He said he keeps it in the hall closet. I looked, didn't see anything. Perp might have taken that. Camera would fence for some decent cash."

"Dammit," Elliot swore forcefully, gouging at his eyes tiredly. Dropping his hands to his hips, he stared down at the mocking pool of crimson blood.

"Happy Fourth of July, Jake."

* * *

As was the case in most American cities, Fourth of July fireworks were a tradition in Portside.

Every year, the entire town gathered on the expansive main beach to watch the colorful patriotic display, funded by the city council and local businesses. It wasn't a particularly lengthy or even impressive display by any means, but it was still tradition. For as long as he could remember, Elliot had trudged down with his family to watch the show.

Except for this year. This year, other things were more pressing.

The sidewalk that ran parallel to the red brick façade of the Sherriff's Department was bathed in the glow of fading light and full of activity. Large clumps of people passed by, beach chairs in hand, toting bags of treats and sweaters for later. Some glanced in through the large front window as they passed, smiling at Elliot as he sat at his desk, straining his brain for clues that didn't exist. The break-in at Melvin's was the talk of the town, and Elliot had spent a huge chunk of his day on fruitless but necessary activities, like reassuring nervous townsfolk.

Yes, he was on the case. No, there were no leads at this time. Yes, they did have a description.

Average, average. Light eyes. Caucasian. Dressed all in black.

Could have been Elliot himself based on those vague details.

Other than his missing camera equipment and the impressive goose egg, Melvin was no worse for the mishap. He displayed the bandage on his head with pride and, based on the versions of the event Elliot had heard from local townsfolk, was embellishing the story each and every time he told it. Still, the perp _had_ demonstrated a willingness to resort to violence.

And he was showing no sign of leaving Portside any time soon.

At his long oak desk across the small room, Jake leaned back in his chair with an irritable sigh.

"I swear, I could recite these files from memory, and I'm still no closer to figuring any of it out."

"You and me both," Elliot grunted morosely, scratching the stubble on his chin absently. And he _really_ needed to figure it out. The mayor had stopped by the Sherriff's Department that morning, bowler hat clutched in one gnarled hand. He hadn't come right out and said it, but the implication was clear. Elliot needed to find the perp, or find another job.

Resting his head on his hand, Jake glanced wistfully out the window, watching the town's residents smile and laugh as they strolled by, unaffected by the tension bouncing around the four walls of the Sherriff's Department.

"How much longer do you think we'll be at this today?" Jake asked, trying not to glance at his watch or sound as impatient as he felt. He respected Elliot as a supervisor, but didn't share his wholehearted dedication to the job. He was just putting in time.

"As long as we need to be," Elliot grunted, glancing up at his deputy. Jake's restlessness was both obvious and annoying. "Why?"

Jake looked uncomfortable for a moment, then cleared his throat. "I was hoping to get down to the beach and enjoy the holiday, at least a little. We've been cooped up in here all day."

"We desperately need a break in this case Jake."

"I know Chief, I know. But we've been staring at the evidence all day, and gotten nowhere. _We_ need a break as much as the case does." Jake paused, and then almost as an afterthought added nervously, "And I, uh, want to take Olivia and Chase to the fireworks."

Elliot felt his stomach bottom out at that revelation. His thick fingers clenched automatically under the desk and he struggled to force the steely tendons to relax. Taking a deep breath, he managed to arrange a look of complete disinterest on his features. "Okay. Go ahead."

Jake's young features sagged with relief. "You mean it?"

"Yes." Elliot's tone was gruff but belied little other emotion. Jake took the permission and ran with it.

"Thanks Boss."

Both men were momentarily distracted when Olivia and Chase suddenly appeared on the other side of the window as if summoned. Olivia smiled cautiously in at them but made no move to enter the building. Chase hovered beside her, his face screwed up into a scowl.

Jake motioned for Olivia to wait and then turned back to face Elliot, a huge smile commandeering his face.

"I probably shouldn't ask this, but, uh, I really like Olivia. I'm not stupid, I know she's out of my league. But I thought, since you know her well, maybe . . ." Jake trailed off and then swallowed hard before speaking again. ". . . Any pointers?"

Elliot stared at him for a long moment, a carefully controlled blank expression on his face. With a shake of his head, he abruptly returned his attention to the papers on his desk. "Sorry man. I don't know anything about her anymore. She's not the same person I married. Just be yourself. Now don't keep the lady waiting. Have fun."

With an accepting nod of his head, Jake complied, grabbing his coat off the hook on the wall and pushing through the front door, the gold bell above the frame tinkling goodbye merrily.

Elliot watched Jake greet Olivia with a kiss on the cheek and Chase with a ruffle of his hair before returning blind eyes to the task before him.

* * *

Half an hour later, when the gold bell jingled again, it was Bernie who crossed the threshold.

Her graying hair pulled back into a tight bun, a crocheted poncho protecting her shoulders from the cool evening air, Bernie greeted her son cheerfully, closing the heavy door behind her, a brown paper bag clutched in her hand. "Still at it, huh?"

Leaning forward in his increasingly uncomfortable wooden chair, Elliot rested his ropy forearms on the desk, shuffling papers around mindlessly. "Yeah. Not getting anywhere though."

With a sympathetic smile, Bernie lowered herself into the cushy visitor's chair directly across from him. The paper bag in her hand smelled strongly of homemade lasagna and Elliot's stomach rumbled. Hearing the traitorous noise, Bernie laughed lightly.

"I brought you dinner. You've been gone since early this morning. I'm assuming you haven't eaten."

"Thanks Mom." Reaching eagerly into the bag, Elliot drew out the wide Tupperware container and a handful of silverware. Popping off the bright green lid, he dug in enthusiastically, the warm food doing wonders for his weakening spirits.

Observing her son's haggard appearance worriedly, Bernie fiddled with the fringe of her poncho. "Why don't you take a break and come watch the fireworks? Tom and the kids are already there. They've got a prime spot on the beach."

"I can't. I've got a lot to do," Elliot grunted, reaching over and grabbing a bottle of water from the tiny white bar fridge behind his desk.

"It would do you good to get out for a bit," his mother chided, her eyes narrowing. "The work will still be here when you get back."

Looking down at the mass of muddled papers on his desk, Elliot sighed. He really did have a lot to do. It wasn't that he couldn't handle seeing Jake there with Olivia and Chase. It wasn't that at all.

Regardless of his reason, he could tell from the stubborn set of his mother's mouth that this was one battle he wouldn't win. "Okay. Just for a bit. Let me grab my jacket and we'll go."

The beautiful main beach was already a mass of bodies by the time Elliot and Bernie strolled down. Some residents perched on the benches that ran along the meandering concrete boardwalk while others sprawled out directly on the sand. Children darted between beach blankets while the adults chatted. In the middle of the beach, ten feet from the water, a roped off area bustled with activity as volunteers prepared the fireworks.

Tom and his children had lay claim to a chunk of sand on the edge of the boardwalk that provided a great view of the fireworks without necessitating significant neck straining. Joe Junior sat cross-legged on the large beach blanket, his attention focused on the video game system in his hands. Autumn and Cyndi were pulling dolls out of Cyndi's backpack, chatting animatedly as they compared outfits. Tom waved at Bernie and Elliot as they approached and Autumn bolted off the blanket to give Elliot a hug.

The three adults made small talk as the children played and the sky darkened. The soft breeze drifting off the ocean was cool, the air refreshing, and Elliot could feel the cobwebs in his head clearing. His mother had been right. It was good for him to escape for a bit.

When the conversation eventually lulled, Elliot absently leaned back on his hands and stretched his legs out before him. Automatically he scanned the beach, noting the familiar faces and smiling at those who noticed his gaze. His roaming eyes only faltered when they stumbled upon Olivia, sitting on a bench further down the boardwalk, Chase seated to her right, Jake perched to her left.

Jake had bounced back from the day's stress quickly since leaving the office. From his spot in the sand, Elliot watched Jake talking quietly to Olivia, her soft hand held between both of his as if he were warming it. Chase's expression was still dour as he stared out at the ocean, his arms folded across his chest and his lips pressed into a thin, grim line.

"I'll be right back."

Bernie glanced at Elliot but said nothing as he heaved himself up off the blanket, brushing sand from his hands. After tossing her a reassuring smile, he cut across the beach, his shoes slipping in the loose beige powder.

Chase caught sight of him first, his frown melting into a toothy grin. Waving merrily, he sat up straighter on the bench. "Hi Elliot!"

At the sound of Chase's call, both Olivia and Jake glanced up, the expression on Olivia's face wary while Jake's registered poorly masked disappointment. Greeting the trio, Elliot lowered himself onto the end of the bench beside Chase, smirking contently, far more pleased with himself for interrupting their little moment than he should have been.

Jake's smile was tightlipped and weakened even further when Olivia surreptitiously extricated her hand from his. "Hey, glad to see you made it down."

Meeting Elliot's light eyes challengingly, Jake dropped a smooth hand to Olivia's knee.

_Oh, so he wanted to play that game, did he? Down, boy._

Smothering a competitive grin, Elliot slung his arm across the back of the bench so that it ran parallel to Chase's head and halfway across Olivia's back. If he had extended his fingers just slightly, he could have caressed her spine, and Jake knew it. Eyes glittering dangerously, Jake struggled to keep irritation and annoyance off his face.

Sensing the testosterone levels rising around her, Olivia shifted uncomfortably on the bench and cleared her throat. "I heard about what happened to Melvin. What's going on in this town? He's just a harmless old man. Who would want to hurt him?"

"Don't you worry about it Liv. We'll get the guy," Jake purred softly, subtly leaning in closer, his chest almost brushing against her shoulder. Subtle or not, Elliot caught the shift and bristled slightly, his hand curling into a fist on the back of the bench.

Grinning lightly, Chase hopped off the bench and pointed to a vendor wheeling his large gray cart along the boardwalk. "Can I get some popcorn for the fireworks Mom?"

"Sure." Leaning back on the bench, her shoulder blade touching Elliot's hand, Olivia reached into her pocket to draw out some change. Jake beat her to it, extending a few crumpled dollar bills in Chase's direction.

"Here you go Bud." The words were accompanied by an ingratiating smile that set Elliot's teeth on edge.

Unimpressed, Chase stared distastefully at the money until Olivia kicked him lightly.

"Chase! What do you say?"

"Thank you," Chase muttered grudgingly, looking anything but thankful as he reluctantly took the money and trudged over to the vendor, leaving the adults shrouded in an uncomfortable silence. When he returned, Chase wordlessly perched on the end of the bench, the move forcing Elliot over until he sat directly beside Olivia, his arm now completely around her. Curious about her reaction, Elliot glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She stared at the fireworks pit intently, her posture stiff, but she didn't pull away. If he had moved his thumb, it would have brushed against the soft skin of her arm.

On the other side of her, Jake's jaw worked under his skin, his teeth grinding together almost audibly. He knew the older man was intentionally baiting him, and he hated that his hands were tied. If Elliot wasn't his damn boss, things would be different.

Very, very different.

With a rough internal sigh, Jake removed his hand from Olivia's knee and shifted away on the bench. He wasn't going to win this battle.

But the war was still raging . . .

The bench fell into silence as the soft whoosh of launching fireworks signaled the start of the display. As bright bolts of red, blue, and white shot through the air, the adults sat beside each another awkwardly and Chase merrily shoved popcorn into his mouth, a wide smirk on his face.

When a cool breeze flowed up from the ocean, Olivia shivered and both men noticed.

"You cold?" Elliot whispered, his voice soft and low in her ear. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, Olivia shook her head, but the raised gooseflesh on her arms was a dead giveaway. Elliot looked over at Jake, but the younger man's eyes were locked on the vivid explosions in the sky, his face stony. With a sigh, Elliot shrugged out of his jacket, gently draping it over Olivia's shoulders before returning his arm to the back of the bench. Olivia looked like she wanted to protest but didn't, shooting him a small, grateful smile instead.

_You wanted pointers? Well, here's one for you, son. Lesson number one - when your woman is cold, warm her up. Not rocket science._

His eyes drifting up to the electric images in the sky, Elliot smiled lightly. He didn't care who Olivia dated, he really didn't. It wasn't about Olivia; it was about Chase. Jake was not father material, not yet. He was too young, too immature. He would end up disappointing Chase just like the losers before him.

And Elliot sure as hell wasn't going to sit idly by and let that happen.


	12. Shouldn't

**Chapter 11 – Shouldn't**

"Let's go Pirates, let's go." Clap, clap.

"Our team is dynamite, dynamite, outta sight."

Battle cries. On that bright July day, the air surrounding the small Stratford baseball diamond was full of them.

A hot midday sun lingered directly overhead, its harsh rays pressing down on the sweaty but enthusiastic spectators who filled the old wooden bleachers and lounged in woven lawn chairs. From above, the mottle of colorful ball caps and glistening foreheads formed an eclectic patchwork quilt against the bright green grass that bordered the sandy diamond. On the expansive field, two teams of young boys waged war, their baseball jerseys stained with sweat and their formerly white pants now dull with dirt.

Olivia and Bernie perched on the far end of one row of the bleachers that sat behind the Portside Pirate's bench, the sun bearing down against their shoulders. Olivia could feel her skin tightening, crisping under the harsh light, and she cursed herself for the millionth time for forgetting her sunscreen at home. Bernie was far better prepared, with an elegant floppy hat covering her face and a shawl protecting her shoulders. Both women had their eyes safely ensconced behind pairs of dark sunglasses as they took in the action, cheering along with the rest of the crowd.

The game was intense. After eleven innings, the score was still tied at six and both teams were showing signs of impending exhaustion. In the interest of time, the umpire had declared that the next team to score a run would win, and both teams were feeling the pressure.

The tension in the bleachers was nearly as intense as the tension on the bench. Involved parents leaned forward, eyes locked on the action, rattling off words of encouragement to their respective teams. Even Olivia, with her limited interest in the sport, was on the edge of her seat. Chase had played well throughout all eleven innings, with several good hits and more than one impressive catch, his competitive nature shining through loud and clear.

There was no doubt who he inherited THAT from.

Clipboard in hand, Elliot paced back and forth in front of his team, the muscles in his well-defined arms clenched, sweat glistening on his forehead. After calling out supportive words to the current Portside batter, he worked hard to pep up the rest of his weary team, his voice and face animated in the effort. Olivia was amazed at the respect they all demonstrated for him. He was a natural role model, a mentor.

How different would Chase's young life have been had Elliot been in it? She could only guess.

Olivia wasn't the only one thoughtfully watching her ex-husband. Moments earlier, two women had cut across the grass and strolled casually over to the bleachers, lowering themselves down onto the row in front of Olivia. They were beautiful in the way that young women typically were, and Olivia couldn't help but to suddenly feel old and ugly. The women had no readily apparent connection to any player on either team, their attention and conversation focused solely on Portside's coach.

"He's so hot." The young blonde sitting directly in front of Olivia leaned forward, one elbow resting on her knee as she intently observed Elliot encouraging his team.

"I know," sighed the tall brunette beside her, toying with a piece of healthy, neatly styled hair. "And he's amazing with the kids. One sexy Daddy."

"He's got to be married. No one that gorgeous is ever single."

"No, he's totally single," the dark haired beauty insisted vehemently. "One of the girls I work with hangs out with his ex-girlfriend. She dumped him like six months ago, and he's been single ever since. She thinks he's still totally hung up on his ex-wife, who divorced him like ten years ago. The girl I work with says his ex-wife isn't even pretty."

The blonde shook her head in apparent amazement, shiny hair gleaming in the sun. "Guess he was slumming. Dumb bitch. What the hell was she thinking?"

Overhearing the conversation, Bernie glanced at Olivia and raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Olivia returned the look with a wry smile, but her attention was quickly diverted back to the game as the Portside batter struck out and a disappointed groan erupted from the crowd.

That put Chase up next, with two out and no one on.

As he slowly exited the on deck circle, Olivia watched her son speak briefly to Elliot before nodding and drawing a deep breath. Squaring his thin shoulders, Chase strode out to home plate, his shiny aluminum bat bright in the sunlight.

"You can do it Chase!" Bernie yelled encouragingly, cupping her hands around her mouth to ensure the sound carried. It worked, and Chase shot her a small smile before taking his position at the plate and refocusing his attention to the task at hand. Digging his small feet firmly into the dirt, Chase got into his stance, the brim of his red batting helmet pulled down low over his eyes to block out the sun.

The first pitch was an obvious strike, but Chase's bat never moved.

As the umpire made the call, Portside parents groaned and Stratford parents cheered. Chase quickly reversed out of the batter's box, and Olivia knew from the set of his jaw that he was mad at himself. He swung his bat unsteadily a few times before settling back in, his hands white knuckled as they choked up.

Her concentration so focused on her son, Olivia didn't realize she was biting her fingernails until Bernie gently grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away from her mouth with a motherly smile. Turning back to the action, Bernie stood up and clapped loudly, her face bright with pride as she cheered on her grandson.

In that moment, it was painfully apparent to Olivia that Chase had lost more than a father when she left Portside. He had also lost a family.

What kind of mother denied her child that?

The next two pitches were both well outside the strike zone. Chase wisely refused to take the bait, allowing the white globe to flash past him both times. The subsequent pitch was a beautiful lob, right down the center of the plate. Grimacing, Chase swung at it and barely missed, the ball skimming the underside of the aluminum bat with a teasing whistle.

Two balls, two strikes.

His face tight with anxiety, Chase backed out of the batter's box again. He looked to Elliot, who offered him a few inaudible words before clapping and nodding encouragingly. Chase took a deep breath and swallowed hard before getting back into position. Smirking slightly, the pitcher looked in for the sign. Like a shark circling a wounded seal, he could smell Chase's vulnerability and had no qualms about exploiting it.

Olivia felt a wave of pride flood through her as Chase kept his head high and faced the pitcher, his grip on the bat sweaty but firm. The Portside supporters leaned forward simultaneously and held their breath while Elliot clutched the clipboard tightly, his light eyes intense. The pitcher shook off several signs from the catcher before finally getting one he agreed with. Straightening abruptly, he lifted his leg and reared back, launching a white bullet toward home plate.

It was an impressive pitch. Direct and fast, with the tiniest bit of movement. A hard pitch to hit.

But Chase hit it beautifully.

His arms a blur of motion, Chase poured his soul into the swing, his gray bat slicing through the air and making full contact with the ball. The sound of hollow horsehide meeting aluminum rang out as the ball soared across the diamond. Now Stratford supporters held their breath while Portside residents rose to their feet, all eyes on the ball as it arched gracefully through the iridescent blue sky, landing with a bounce on the far side of the left field fence.

Home run.

The Portside supporters erupted into cheers as the players bounded up off the bench, high fiving and slapping each other on the back. Olivia cheered loudest of all as Chase rounded the bases, the wide smile on his face eclipsing the bright sun. Bernie jumped up and down on the bleachers, clapping excitedly before turning to hug Olivia. Clipboard forgotten on the bench, Elliot too clapped fervently, his tanned face etched with a proud, broad smile. He led the charge onto the diamond as Chase rounded third base and turned for home, dodging dejected Stratford players as they walked off the field. The ecstatic winning team was barely able to wait until Chase touched home plate before mobbing him, slapping him on the back and patting his helmet.

Elliot smoothly extracted Chase from the madness, hugging him impulsively before hoisting him onto his broad shoulders and holding him high above the rest of the team as they chanted his name. Smiling so hard his face ached, Chase lifted his arms into the air victoriously.

The light Olivia saw in her son's eyes literally took her breath away. She could not remember the last time she had seen that expression of pure joy on his young face. Probably not since he was a baby. Before the cruelty of his peers and disappointment in his adult role models stripped it away.

In that moment however, the past held no sway over Chase, and Olivia felt a tear slip down her cheek as she clapped and cheered so loudly her ears rang.

Chase had finally come home.

* * *

By evening, the day's joy had faded to despair.

At least for Olivia.

The darkening sky above was clear as she perched on the edge of the short dock that jutted out into the ocean from the beach behind the Stabler home. Save for a few wispy clouds feathering lightly across the horizon, the stars ran amok for as far as the eye could see. There was little breeze and the ocean was as calm as Olivia had ever seen it, the clear water pleasantly cool around her warm toes.

Laughter from the Stabler's backyard echoed down to the beach and the woodsy smell of a campfire laced the air as Olivia leaned back on her hands and stared out over the water, the wooden boards rough against the underside of her bare legs. Further up the shore, just out of sight behind the dunes, the party raged on. Following the game, Elliot had jubilantly invited the entire team and their supporters back to the Stabler home for a celebratory barbecue. The atmosphere was jovial, today being the first time in almost a decade that Portside had beaten Stratford on the diamond.

Chase was the hero, the man of the hour. He hadn't stopped smiling since hitting the game winning home run, basking humbly in the glory, pride shining on his face with each accolade. He was happy. Honest to goodness happy.

And for Olivia, that particular victory was bittersweet.

For the first time in his young life, Chase was fitting in, was forming friendships. But in a month and a half, they would be back in New York. Chase would definitely not want to go. He would not want to leave his new friends and the taste of the life he had here.

He would not want to leave Elliot.

Olivia had denied him his father for twelve years. How dare she do it again?

But she had no choice. She couldn't afford to stay in Portside, financially or emotionally. Her job was in New York, and there were certainly no comparable positions in Portside. Even if she kept her mother's house, she couldn't afford not to work. If she were being honest, she couldn't even afford to keep her mother's house even if she _did_ work. The property taxes alone would wipe out a full pay cheque and it was far too much room for just the two of them.

Emotionally, she couldn't deal with being so close to Elliot. She had thought she could, but she couldn't. She knew it was over, that their relationship could not ever be resurrected, but even with that certainty it was still painful to be around him.

It shouldn't have been, but it was.

One of the main reasons she had adjourned to the dock in the first place was because she had grown tired of watching the town's divorcees hitting on him as he barbecued. He had flirted right back, laughing, and joking, and touching. It made her feel sick.

It shouldn't have, but it did.

No, staying in Portside was definitely not an option. She could deal with that. The real question was whether Chase could.

And whether he would ever speak to her again once she told him the truth.

Christ. She was a horrible mother.

The reverberation of feet on the wooden planks of the dock jolted Olivia back into the present and out of the dark recesses of her mind. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Bernie strolling down the walkway, two beers in hand. Sighing inwardly, Olivia turned her attention back to the water. She liked Bernie a lot, but her timing was bad. Olivia was definitely not in the mood to talk.

The footfalls ceased when Bernie was directly behind her, the wooden boards still vibrating. Bernie remained silent, opting to dangle a golden beer in front of Olivia's face rather than speak. Smiling despite herself, Olivia reached up to gratefully take the bottle from the older woman's hands. Choosing to view that as an invitation to stay, Bernie put her own beer down and carefully lowered herself to sit beside Olivia, the weathered wood creaking under her weight.

The two women sat together in silence as the sun inched below the horizon, its bright rays fading to a warm orange glow that spread across the ocean. Her feet kicking lightly in the smooth, glassy water, Olivia could feel Bernie watching her out of the corner of her eye, but almost half her beer was gone before Bernie finally spoke.

"Heck of a game today. The boys are all on cloud nine."

Olivia nodded absently in acknowledgment, her eyes never leaving the water. "I've never seen Chase as happy as he was today."

Bernie glanced over at Olivia, her eyes warm. "Today was a very good day for him. That was an amazing hit."

Olivia half smiled. "It was. I'm so proud of him."

Bernie dangled a toe in the water, drawing aberrant circles on the smooth surface. "Joe's been on my case all evening to let Chase stay over tonight. Once all the other boys are gone, I think they have their hearts set on playing baseball on Joe's video game system all night. Would it be okay for Chase to stay? We've got lots of room."

"Of course," Olivia agreed easily, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face. "It's nice to see Chase making friends."

"It's definitely nice to see those two getting along," Bernie murmured, sipping her beer calmly. "After all, they are cousins."

They both grew quiet again for a few moments, gazing out over the calm blue ocean. It was Olivia who broke the silence next.

"I don't know how to tell him Bernie. Either of them."

Taking a slow, extended sip of her cold beer, Bernie looked thoughtful. "I don't think there's a good way Olivia. I think you just need to do it."

Olivia sighed violently, picking at the label on her bottle, flaking off tiny pieces of paper and letting them drift down to her bare legs like warm snowflakes. "Elliot's going to be furious."

Bernie considered that statement for a moment before nodding slowly. "I wish I could say that he won't be, but we both know him. It's part of Elliot's value system to be a protector and a provider. He is not going to like the fact that he has not been able to provide for or protect his son for the last twelve years. He has missed out on a lot. And the longer you delay it, the worse it is going to be."

Olivia sighed, running a hand through her silky hair. "I know. I just don't know how to go about it. Or when."

"Right now may be a good time," Bernie suggested gently. "Elliot's in a good mood and his pride in that little boy is obvious. Maybe you'll just be confirming something he's secretly been hoping? Maybe instead of being angry he'll be happy?"

Olivia laughed dryly as she swirled the water around her feet. "Very optimistic of you. Misguided, but optimistic."

"I try," Bernie chuckled. Quickly growing serious again, she looked Olivia directly in the eye. "Please Olivia, don't delay much longer. Let them know so that they can spend some time together, start to build a father-son relationship before you go back to New York."

Smiling compassionately, Bernie slowly heaved herself back up to a standing position. Leaning over, she kissed the top of Olivia's head affectionately. "This too shall pass, love."

Nearly empty bottle in hand, Bernie padded back down the creaky dock, leaving Olivia alone to ponder how much longer she could possibly avoid the inevitable.

It took her only a few moments to decide that Bernie was right.

The time was now.

* * *

"Congratulations."

The sun had settled below the horizon and most of the guests had left by the time Elliot made his way into the homey green kitchen to wash the barbecue dishes. He had heard the screen door swish open moments before but hadn't turned, assuming it was just his mother carting in more items to be washed. He was up to his elbows in soapy water when the guarded voice behind him made him jump.

Pulling beet red hands out of the steaming water and abandoning the never ending pile of dirty dishes to his right, Elliot whirled around and grabbed a dishtowel.

"Kathy. What are you doing here?"

"I heard about your win." Her eyes mischievous, Kathy sauntered over to stand beside him near the sink, her slender body showcased elegantly in a light summer dress. Leaning a hip against the counter, she stared down into the soapy water. "Just thought I would stop by to congratulate you."

"Thanks," Elliot murmured gruffly, snagging a few plates out of the dish drainer and drying them expertly. "I don't deserve any credit though. I had a great team."

Kathy shrugged nonchalantly and glanced down at her nails, picking absently at a cuticle. "A team would be nothing without a good leader."

Unsure of what to say to that, Elliot let the subject drop and continued to dry the dishes on autopilot, his steady gaze on his ex-girlfriend's face. "So why are you really here?"

Kathy raised a carefully plucked eyebrow and smiled slightly. "I missed you a few weeks ago. You said you would be over, but you never showed."

Selecting another dish, Elliot groaned internally. He had meant to call her and cancel the night he had gone to Olivia's, he really had. But he had been so flustered to see Olivia kissing Jake that he had completely forgotten. And then one thing had led to another . . .

"I know, I'm sorry. I got . . . caught up in something."

_Yeah, caught up in Olivia. Literally._

Kathy looked at him suspiciously, her blue eyes chilly. "You seeing someone else?"

"No, no. It was just . . . work-related stuff," Elliot lied, suddenly feeling acutely uncomfortable. Turning his back on her for a moment to place the dried plates back onto the cupboard shelf, he prepared himself for an awkward but necessary conversation. When he pivoted back around, Kathy was still staring at him. "Look, I'm not sure this is going to work for me anymore."

Kathy looked startled, her delicate hands flying to her hips. "What's not going to work for you anymore?"

Elliot cleared his throat nervously, sensing her hostility level rising. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene with the kids in the house.

"This 'friends with benefits' thing. It's not who I am. You broke up with me Kathy. You made it clear you weren't interested in a relationship anymore unless I put a ring on your finger, and I'm not interested in getting married again. Once was enough. And now I think it's time we both move on."

Kathy's teeth ground together audibly for a moment before her face suddenly relaxed, as if someone had thrown a switch.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" she purred, moving seductively to stand close enough to him that their bodies touched intimately.

Elliot had to stifle a groan as his body responded involuntarily. He probably would have been able to control it, would have been able to quell the arousal, had his mind not flashed back to the last time he was alone in a kitchen with a beautiful woman. The way she had felt against him, under him, around him. If he closed his eyes, he could relive the moment in great detail, and that just made him harder.

Kathy noticed, her eyes lighting up and travelling down to where their bodies touched. "Baby, I'm getting conflicting signals here. You're telling me one thing, but your body is telling me another. So what's it gonna be?"

His hands slipping to her hips to stop them from rubbing against him, Elliot looked compassionately at Kathy, remembering her as a woman that he had once thought he loved. "It wouldn't be fair to you."

Surprised by that answer, Kathy regarded him quizzically for a moment, running her hands lightly over his chest. "I'm the one initiating this Elliot. I know what I'm getting myself into. Why wouldn't it be fair to me?"

Reaching up, Elliot grabbed one of her hands and removed it from his chest, squeezing it tenderly. "Because the entire time we were in bed together, I would be imagining you were someone else. And you deserve better than that."

Reeling at his response, Kathy stepped back, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Her blue eyes flashed over his face and her mouth dropped open slightly, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Slowly, her pretty face fell and she nodded a few times in acceptance, brushing strands of hair out of her suddenly damp eyes.

Elliot thought that the worst was over, thought that Kathy was finally about to leave, when she suddenly took a huge step toward him again. "Fine. If this is a kiss off, I'm damn well going to make it a good one."

Grabbing his neck, Kathy yanked Elliot's warm mouth down to hers for a passionate final kiss.

* * *

The walk from the dock back up to the Stabler home seemed interminable.

The wet, packed sand by the water that absorbed Olivia's footprints gave way to light powder that tickled her bare toes, its tiny grains clinging to her damp skin. Over the dunes, that soft sand melted into warm rock before opening up onto the Stabler's backyard.

As Olivia approached the patio, she found it far less crowded than when she had left. Only a few stragglers remained, enjoying the cool evening air and helping Bernie clean up. On a mission, Olivia quickly scanned the group for Elliot. When she didn't spot him outside, she made a beeline for the screen door that led into the kitchen. Odds were good he was inside, either helping clean up or playing with the kids.

As she quickly crossed the patio, ignoring Bernie's curious eyes, Olivia's heart pounded in her chest and sweat beaded on her brow. She had no plan of action, no script of what she was going to say. It was probably all going to tumble out of her mouth in a muddled mess, but at least it would be out. At least it wouldn't weigh her down any longer. Then maybe together they could figure out how to tell Chase.

But first things first.

Clearing her throat nervously, Olivia stopped just outside the patio door, quickly smoothing her shirt and tucking her long hair behind her ears. Just because she felt like a basket case didn't mean she had to look like one. Taking a deep breath, Olivia readied herself and then opened the sliding door, stepping quickly into the tiled kitchen.

No amount of preparation would have readied her for the sight that greeted her inside. It was familiar, but also very unwelcome.

Elliot was indeed in the kitchen, but he wasn't alone. Kathy stood there as well, pressed against him, her arms wrapped around his neck as they kissed. Deeply, intensely, passionately.

Olivia was instantly transported back to that night twelve years ago. Elliot and Kathy, kissing on the couch.

The repeat performance today was equally as distasteful as the original.

Equally horrifying.

Equally heartbreaking. Although it shouldn't have been.

The lovers hadn't noticed her entrance, lost as they were in their kiss. She could have easily reversed back out the door and disappeared exactly like she had twelve years ago, without letting them know what she had seen.

But she wasn't a scared, bleeding eighteen-year-old girl anymore.

Now she was a woman. And this time, they would know.

Anger fueling her movements, Olivia reached over and slammed the sliding door closed. The noise startled the canoodling couple and they jumped apart, both looking flustered. Kathy had the good sense to avoid Olivia's unrelenting glare, but Elliot looked directly at her, his face wan.

"Olivia. I, uh, we . . . . I didn't realize you were still here," Elliot stammered lamely. Kathy smirked slightly, staring at the floor as her finger traced lightly over swollen lips. "We were just, uh . . . ."

"Don't worry Elliot, no explanation required," Olivia snapped, crossing her arms so tightly over her chest she was amazed she could still breathe, let alone talk. "It's not like this is the first time I've walked in on something like this. I didn't get an explanation then and I don't expect I'll get one now."

At this revelation, Elliot's face drained of the little color it had left and Kathy glanced up at him, a small self-satisfied grin still lurking on her lips.

"Olivia, I'm sorry."

Elliot's voice was soft, pleading, but Olivia closed her ears to it, refused to let it reach her heart. When she spoke again, her voice was hard and unyielding.

"Forget it El. You don't owe me anything. Maybe you did twelve years ago, but you don't anymore. You can take your apology and shove it."

Hands trembling with anger and smug power, Olivia opened the sliding door again and stepped outside, slamming it closed violently behind her. As she disappeared into the darkness, Elliot and Kathy stood alone in the kitchen, speechless once more.


	13. Hell

_A/N – Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted. Thanks to all of you who have stuck with the story. I hope you are still enjoying it._

_The left hook is dedicated to Sitarra for all her support __Thank you thank you thank you._

**Chapter 12 - Hell**

Tonight, she decided, was a celebration.

A celebration of the moment she stopped caring, of the second she ceased to give a damn. About anything. About _anyone_.

To hell with it all.

To hell with Portside, that ramshackle, podunk fishing village that time forgot. She couldn't wait to get back to New York.

To hell with the past. To hell with all the idiots in town who thought that because they knew her mother, they also knew her. To hell with all those who judged her for past deeds, knowing nothing about her reasons.

To hell with men. To hell with Phil. And Shaun.

And especially Elliot.

She was done. Done with it all. Done with Portside, done with people, done with relationships, done with drama, done with emotion, done with heartache.

Done, done, done.

So tonight, Olivia celebrated, reveled in her newfound freedom, shook off the shackles of her miserable existence. And what better way to commemorate the moment than to get completely, unequivocally drunk. Her mother had taught her that.

Serena. To hell with her too. It was all her fault that Olivia had had to come back and deal with this garbage in the first place.

Even from the grave, Serena punished her.

For a Saturday night, the Sly Badger was uncharacteristically quiet. All of the plastic-coated booths and scarred tables were empty, save for the one a waitress sat at, counting the evening's tips. The paying customers were all lined up along the oak bar, chatting with the amiable bartender or staring up at the ceiling-mounted TVs. Still, at just after ten o'clock, it was early yet. Business was bound to pick up.

The backless stool on which Olivia perched felt tremulous, and she rested her elbows firmly on the sticky bar to keep her balance as she stared down into the glistening amber liquid of her drink. The lone female patron, Olivia had been approached several times by hopeful male drinkers, but her frosty attitude had quickly and efficiently squashed all attempts at meaningless conversation. Eventually, they left her completely alone with her glass at one end of the expansive bar.

Exactly the way she liked it.

Lifting the glass to her glossed lips, Olivia took a tentative sip, wincing as the harsh liquid burned all the way down her esophagus, irritating the tissue there and launching her into a coughing fit. The ice cubes clinked together cheerfully as she lowered the glass, oblivious to her pain.

What the hell was she drinking anyway? Scotch? Whiskey? She couldn't remember. Flirting shamelessly with the bartender had kept the drinks coming steadily since she arrived. It seemed like hours ago that she had started with beer, then moved to wine, followed by shots. But none of those broad categories covered the liquid that was currently fermenting in her glass.

Whatever it was, it hurt like a bitch, which was fine. Desirable actually. Physical pain was far preferable to emotional pain. Physical pain would ebb away; the emotional knew no such limits. The alcohol had successfully anesthetized most of Olivia's emotional vulnerability. Save for the searing in her throat, she was pleasantly numb.

Now if only the alcohol would erase the image of Elliot and Kathy kissing. It stung less, but steadfastly refused to fade.

Olivia had stormed home immediately following her ranting tirade in the Stabler kitchen, remembering only belatedly and with a great deal of guilt that she had neglected to say goodbye to Chase. Brushing off an inquisitive Bernie, she had spoken briefly to Chase on the phone, encouraging him to mind his manners and wishing him sweet dreams. Guilt assuaged, Olivia had proceeded to stalk around the large, lonely Victorian for almost forty minutes, until she could take it no longer. Tossing on a pair of dark jeans and a t-shirt, she had made a beeline for the Sly Badger, desperate to dam the memories that had come crashing back in a tidal wave.

_Kathy and Elliot, sitting on the couch, kissing . . . _

Focused as she was on driving that bitter memory from her mind, Olivia didn't hear the rambunctious group come in. Only when the flurry of female voices was directly behind her did Olivia perk up an ear disinterestedly. The group spoke and laughed loudly, drawing curious gazes from everyone in the bar except Olivia, who continued to ignore the group even as it brushed past her, leaving a sulfurous cloud of perfume in its wake.

She wasn't interested in bearing witness to their glee when she herself felt none.

The posse of four women bellied up to the bar a few feet away and placed their drink orders, flirting every bit as shamelessly with the handsome young barkeep as Olivia had been earlier. Only when a familiar voice rang out did Olivia's eyes snap up from the rim of her glass.

Unfortunately, Kathy caught sight of her that very same second.

_Of all the people . . . _

The only person in the world Olivia wanted to see less at that moment was Elliot.

"Well, look who it is," Kathy drawled slowly, a small smile quirking up the corner of her mouth. She leaned against the bar confidently, enveloped in the security of her friends, her healthy blonde hair resplendent in the dim light of the bar, her eyes cold. She wore a clingy dress that flattered her lean body and the three women who flanked her on either side were equally as stunning. Olivia recognized the members of Kathy's clique as women she had gone to school with, but their names escaped her, and she didn't care enough to think very hard.

Dropping her eyes, Olivia ignored Kathy, trying valiantly to force her stiff shoulders to relax. Whispering to her friends, who giggled in response, Kathy smiled flirtatiously at the bartender as he slid a glass of wine in her direction. After a further few minutes of quiet conversation and avid encouragement from her peons, Kathy arrogantly strutted away from the group and lowered herself onto the bar stool beside Olivia.

"Funny running into you here," Kathy said cheerfully, her eyes twinkling with intent Olivia wasn't even remotely interested in interpreting.

"Yeah, funny," Olivia muttered, lifting her drink and draining the remaining liquid. Dropping her glass back to the bar, she avoided Kathy's gaze, lowering her head and allowing a curtain of shiny hair to shield her wince. Once the burning had subsided to a tolerable level, she motioned to the bartender for another drink.

The room wasn't spinning nearly fast enough for her liking.

"You don't look so good," Kathy piped up happily, taking a delicate sip of her pale gold wine as she watched Olivia over the rim of her glass. "Are you sure another drink is a good idea?"

Olivia was about to snap that she didn't need another mother, but the words died on her lips. Her mother would have thought another drink was a fantastic idea.

"Look," Kathy continued, setting her long-stemmed glass down carefully on the bar. "Woman to woman, I'm sorry about what you walked in on a few hours ago. I know it must have been hard to see, given the fact you still have this huge thing for Elliot."

"Elliot and I are over," Olivia mumbled, grabbing the new glass of mystery liquid that the bartender slid toward her as if it were a life preserver. She was tempted to knock it back all in one gulp, but she didn't want Kathy to have the satisfaction of watching her face twist in pain. "I don't have a 'thing' for him anymore."

"If you say so," Kathy chuckled, her tone clearly indicating that she didn't buy that for a second.

"Think what you want," Olivia muttered, taking a long pull from the glass. Her eyes watered as the liquid scorched her innards. She could feel the curious gaze of Kathy's friends from across the bar but refused to look at them. "There's nothing going on between Elliot and I."

"Oh, I know that," Kathy agreed readily with a nod, her eyes twinkling. "Elliot is way too smart to make the same mistake twice. There was only one night I wondered, a few weeks back."

Kathy paused for a moment, weighing her words carefully before continuing. "Elliot was supposed to come to my place, and he never showed. Said he got caught up at work, but something in his expression just wasn't right. I thought, maybe, he had been with you. Then I realized that was stupid."

Taking a more moderate sip of her drink, Olivia flashed back to that night, against the fridge, on the breakfast island, on the table. The sights, the smells, the sounds, the tastes, the sensations. They were still as clear as day. She could have told Kathy, could have bragged, but what good would that do? Elliot would just deny it, and there was no doubt whose word Kathy would take.

"Yeah, stupid," Olivia slurred quietly, her fingertips running absently along the edge of the bar. Taking a deep breath, she forced away the anger that was starting to simmer in her veins. She would not let Kathy get the best of her. She would not rise to the bait.

To hell with Kathy.

But Kathy wasn't done yet.

"You do know Elliot and I are back together, right?" Kathy's tone was sickeningly sweet, and Olivia gritted her teeth in irritation. "We were having some relationship trouble, but we worked things out. He knows I'm not the kind of woman that bails when the going gets tough."

"Well bully for you," Olivia snarled, downing the last dregs of her drink in one long gulp and slamming the glass back down on the bar far harder than was necessary. The action drew uneasy glances from the bartender and waitress. "You're mistaking me for someone who cares."

Kathy chuckled at her obvious irritation. "Elliot deserves better than you. I know that, and you know that. The good news is, so does he."

Olivia felt her stomach clench excruciatingly as Kathy presented her with a statement she couldn't refute. It was time to get the hell out of there, to get some fresh, perfume-free air. She suddenly wasn't feeling well, and Kathy's proximity wasn't helping in the least.

"Whatever you say," Olivia murmured, reaching into her pocket with fumbling hands and yanking out a wad of crumpled bills. Tossing them onto the bar, she slid carefully off the stool, gripping the seat tightly when her vision blurred and her balance wavered. Recovering quickly, she looked at Kathy as defiantly as she could manage. "Well, as fun as this has been, I'm outta here."

Pushing off the stool, Olivia moved to walk unsteadily past Kathy, who was determined to have the final word.

"You know we were sleeping together, right? The entire time you two were dating. Even after you got married." Kathy's voice was tinged with smug conceit.

Olivia froze, gripping the bar desperately to keep her balance. A hot pain brewed in her abdomen, tangling her intestines and squeezing her lungs until she could barely breathe.

That knowledge shouldn't have surprised her. It really shouldn't have. She had seen them kissing on the couch after all. Was it really such a stretch to imagine they had made love too?

The thought made her sick on so many levels.

"Yeah, course I knew," Olivia lied, brushing her hair back from her face and holding her head high even as the room swam. "Why the hell do you think I dumped his ass?"

Kathy chuckled, tossing a victorious glance toward her friends across the bar. "You don't look so swell Olivia. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Go to hell." Carefully pivoting and pushing off the bar, Olivia wobbled unsteadily past Kathy and worked her way toward the Sly Badger's lone washroom. Her vision was distorted by alcohol, anger, and grief. What a fool she had been, thinking it had only been that one kiss.

Naïve idiot.

The path to the washroom was straight but the way Olivia walked wasn't. She stumbled through the maze of tables and chairs, banging her thighs against piece after piece of furniture. At one point, she actually fell, tripping over the leg of a wayward chair. Her temple grazed the corner of a nearby table on the way down and the beginnings of a headache tickled her brain, but she managed to haul herself to her feet and hold her chin high, waving off the waitress who scurried over to help her.

The door to the washroom swung open with a squeak and Olivia lurched inside. When the door closed behind her, she clumsily threw the bolt, locking out the world. Holding onto the sink for balance, Olivia slammed down the toilet lid and sunk onto it, her stomach heaving.

She barely got her head down between her knees before the tears came.

* * *

As quickly as they came, the tears dried and left behind an emptiness in her soul she hadn't imagined possible. An even deeper void than had existed twelve years ago.

Elliot had told her that he loved her. Told her that she was the woman he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. And the entire time he had been spouting those heartwarming words, he had been fucking Kathy. Then, he had the gall to be angry with her for leaving.

Prick.

Bastard.

Olivia had lost track of how long she had sat in that small, dingy washroom, but an insistent knock on the door reminded her that other people might have need of the facilities.

Too bad she didn't give a damn about those other people.

"Piss off," Olivia called, her voice muffled as her head still rested between her legs.

"Open the door Olivia." Elliot's voice was muted through the wood, but still unmistakable.

Speak of the fucking devil.

"Screw off Elliot," Olivia called sharply, lifting her head to ensure the message travelled clearly this time.

"I'm coming in. Better make sure you're decent," Elliot growled, and Olivia heard the sound of a key entering the lock. Sighing resignedly, she lowered her head back down between her legs just as the deadbolt flicked up. Listening carefully for any scrambling, Elliot waited for a moment before pushing the door open with a soft squeak.

The lighting in the small, dour washroom was poor, but Elliot could clearly make out the shape of Olivia, curled up in an upright fetal position on the seat of the toilet. Moving completely into the small washroom, he closed the door behind him, blocking out the bar sounds on the other side. He didn't relock the door, choosing instead to stand in front of it, his muscular body resting against the rough wood. His eyes were soft as he looked down at her, arms folded across his chest.

"You okay?"

"Fine," Olivia muttered into her legs. "Can't a girl get a little privacy around here?"

"Apparently you've had thirty minutes of privacy. There are a bunch of other customers out there who have had their legs crossed for the last fifteen minutes." Elliot's tone was laced with amusement and he couldn't stop a small smile from creeping onto his lips. He could tell from her voice alone that Olivia was drunker than he had ever seen her, and he found it alarmingly cute.

"I'll be out in a minute. Go back to your drink," Olivia snarled, lifting her head just slightly to look down at his white and black tennis shoes.

"I'm not here to drink. I'm here for you. Fin called. Said you could use a ride home."

"Fin needs to mind his own damn business."

Elliot grinned at her slurred words, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. "How much have you had to drink Liv?"

"Also not your business." _As if she even knew to tell him_.

Elliot sighed lightly. He should have known getting her out of there would not be easy. She was stubborn as a mule. "Come on. My truck's out front."

Raising her eyes to glare at him, Olivia pushed herself up into a precarious standing position. The washroom walls started to rotate and Elliot reached out to steady her as she wobbled. Brushing him off with a sharp shake of her head, she held her chin high.

"I can get home just fine myself, thank you very much." Olivia felt her heart constrict as the image in her mind's eye of Elliot and Kathy kissing on the couch quickly morphed into Elliot and Kathy in bed together.

"I'm sure you think that, but all the same, I really don't want to have to tell your son I found you lying in a ditch somewhere." Elliot was suddenly sober, his light eyes soft as he watched her struggle to keep upright. "You're bleeding."

Startled, OIivia's hand flew up to her face. Sure enough, a sticky, narrow river of blood had flowed down her left cheek. She must have hit her head on the table after all.

Elliot strode toward her, and Olivia felt her breath quicken involuntarily in anticipation as his eyes locked on her face. Reaching around her, he grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the faucet. Gently, he drew the matted hair away from her temple and applied the damp paper towel. Olivia shivered from the contrasting combination of his warm touch and the cool compress.

After a moment, Elliot drew the makeshift cloth away, his eyes examining the small cut carefully. "Just a surface wound. You'll survive."

Olivia tensed as he leaned around her to toss the paper towel in the waste basket. "Nice of you to start caring about my well-being now. Twelve damn years too late."

Elliot frowned but allowed her to pass as she moved toward the door, using the wall to keep herself steady. "Olivia . . ."

"No!" Olivia snapped, waving a finger in his face angrily. "Don't you 'Olivia' me now, asshole."

It took several tries, but Olivia finally managed to grab the handle and yank the washroom door open, stumbling out into the bar. The Sly Badger had gotten significantly busier since she had disappeared into the washroom, and more than a few new faces turned to stare at her as she lurched out of the tiny room.

Unsteadily, Olivia weaved through the crowd, trying to put as much distance between her and Elliot as humanly possible. Being near him was too hard. His proximity launched a rollercoaster of emotions that she thought she had gotten off of weeks ago. Anger, disappointment, heartache. All of these emotions were too intense, too out of control. She needed space to think more clearly, but she couldn't shake Elliot, who tagged along a few feet behind her, having much less trouble than she was covering the ground.

Kathy and her cronies were the last hurdles between Olivia and much needed fresh air. Kathy had moved back to join the other three and they all sat along the bar now, their backs to the oak veneer, watching her weave through the crowd with smirks on their faces.

It shouldn't have bothered her. She shouldn't have cared, but for some reason the sight of Kathy being so damn smug enraged her.

Olivia halted in front of the quartet, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Something funny?"

Kathy shook her head, her earrings glinting in the dull bar light, the smirk remaining firmly in place. "Not at all. There's nothing funny about how pathetic you are right now."

"Kathy, enough," Elliot snapped, taking Olivia's arm to draw her away. His fingers were warm against her skin. "You're not helping."

Olivia jerked her arm away and glared at him, desperate to fight her own battles. "Shut up."

Finding her balance again, Olivia met Kathy's eyes coldly and lifted her chin proudly. "You know what, I wasn't going to say anything, but I think you should know. Woman to woman and all that bull. I lied to you earlier. The night Elliot was supposed to come over to your house, you want to know what he was really doing? He was fucking me. How's that make you feel?"

Her face registering no shock at this revelation but her stomach sinking, Kathy snorted derisively. "I'm not surprised. You're nothing but a drunken slut, just like your mother."

Olivia lost it.

Considering her state of inebriation, it was amazing she landed the punch as proficiently as she did.

The element of surprise on her side, Olivia nailed Kathy square in the jaw with an impressive left hook. Too stunned to even cry out, Kathy fell backward, landing on her ass on the grimy bar floor. Her friends shrieked but didn't come to her aid as Olivia pounced on her and landed another solid shot to the face. Amid encouraging hoots, hollers, and catcalls from the enthusiastic audience, Kathy finally managed to get an arm up to deflect Olivia's blows and even got in a light defensive shot of her own. Olivia saw stars for just a moment, barely long enough for Fin to pull Kathy out from under her and for Elliot to grab her by the waist and haul her to her feet.

"Let go of me," Olivia hissed, jerking away from Elliot. She glared at Kathy, who was now standing again a few feet away, shaking her head as if to clear the cobwebs while Fin held her steady.

Kathy glowered back, leaning over as she spat blood onto the dirty floor. "Bitch."

Anger skyrocketing again, Olivia quickly covered the distance between them and got in another shot before Fin placed himself between the two women, receiving an errant fist in the ear for his efforts.

By then, Elliot had had enough. He grabbed Olivia hard, yanking her away from Kathy and pushing her up roughly against the wall. The impact knocked loose a framed picture of Portside's beach. It slid to the floor with a crash, its glass shattering on contact. Olivia was startled for only a moment before rage took over again. She gave Elliot a hard shot to the chest with both palms, fighting valiantly until he grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the wall beside her head. Pressing his strong body against hers, he eliminated all room for struggle.

"That's enough Olivia." Elliot's voice was level and firm, his breath hot near her ear. The sensation of his lean body pressing against her, pinning her to the wall, was inappropriately erotic for both of them. "I don't want to have to cuff you, but I'll do it."

Just like that, all of the fight seeped out of her, and Olivia's body crumbled. Adrenaline draining, she dropped her head to Elliot's chest, his t-shirt soft against her damp forehead. He could hear her breathing regulate again as he gently stroked her hair. Sensing the moment had passed, Elliot stepped back, forcing Olivia to straighten and lean her head against the wall. The cut from earlier had been reopened, and a fresh trail of scarlet blood leaked over to her left ear.

"Wait outside," Elliot insisted gruffly, guiding her toward the door with a hand on the small of her back. Olivia offered no resistance, submissively and silently doing as he said. Once she was outside, Elliot turned back to check on the second combatant. Kathy was perched precariously on a bar stool, surrounded by her swooning friends, her expression still dazed. Fin crouched beside her but stood and stepped away when Elliot approached.

"She okay?"

"She'll be fine," Fin replied, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement. "She's had her bell rung, but that's about it. How's Olivia?"

"She's going to feel like hell in the morning, I can tell you that much."

Both men glanced around the room, relieved to see that the rabid audience had turned back to their drinks. Sighing, Elliot ran a hand lightly over his cropped hair.

"I better get Olivia home before she does any more damage to herself or anyone else. You'll make sure Kathy's friends get her home okay?"

Fin nodded. "Dude, you are the luckiest man alive. Two beautiful women fighting over you, literally. I'd give anything to have Alex fighting over me."

Elliot chuckled wearily and turned to leave, stopping only when his friend called his name again.

"Don't be too hard on Olivia man. Kathy deserved it for that comment." Fin whistled admiringly as he looked over at Kathy again, shaking his head in amazement. "Wow. That was a hell of a left hook."

A broad, proud grin spread across Elliot's face as he turned and headed out the door, his parting words more for his own benefit than Fin's.

"Yeah, it was, wasn't it?"

* * *

The brief car ride home felt interminable.

Elliot's black Ford F150 cruised effortlessly through the quiet streets, its shiny chrome glinting in the moonlight. Inside the cabin, the air was thick with tension and repressed emotion. Neither passenger nor driver spoke a word during the short drive, unsure of what to say, of where to start. Her forehead resting against the cool glass, Olivia stared out the tinted side window, watching dark trees and colossal houses flash by. Beside her, Elliot drove stiffly on autopilot, two hands clutching the wheel, knuckles white. Both were lost in their own thoughts, battling their own demons, struggling with their own emotions, weighed down by their own guilt.

The snap and pop of gravel beneath the truck's tires signaled its entry into the Benson homestead's driveway and brought the former lovers back to the moment. Pulling up in front of the wraparound porch, Elliot quieted the truck's ignition and shifted in his seat to glance over at his passenger, still struggling with what to say.

Ignoring his gaze, Olivia stared silently out the window for a long moment, her eyes flickering morosely over the massive white Victorian, before sighing quietly and unclipping her seatbelt.

"Thanks for the ride."

Olivia's voice was flat as she slid out of her seat and closed the truck door heavily behind her before he had the chance to respond. Hands still gripping the steering wheel, Elliot watched her walk unsteadily up the porch stairs, gripping the wooden railing for support, kicking off her heels as she went. His stomach twisting uncomfortably, he debated his next move.

They needed to talk desperately. Now that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she had witnessed the kiss, Elliot felt compelled to explain, to clear up any misconceptions she had about that night twelve years ago, but Olivia wasn't in any condition to talk rationally with him. She probably wouldn't even remember anything he said the next morning. He should wait until tomorrow. He really should.

But he couldn't.

Before he had made any conscious decision, Elliot found himself standing beside her on the porch. A small frown on her face, Olivia stood in front of the door, squinting in the dim moonlight at the mass of keys she clutched in her hand. With a grunt of satisfaction, she finally located the elusive house key, but her hands were too unsteady to slide the key into the thin slot.

Reaching over, Elliot gently removed the jingling keys from Olivia's hand. He expected her to snap at him, to jerk away from his touch, but she didn't. She didn't look at him either, her gaze trained on the key as he slipped it into the lock and threw the bolt. Turning the knob and pushing the heavy door open, Elliot hesitated, waiting for Olivia to make the next move. After a moment's pause, as if debating the value of going inside, Olivia finally stepped over the threshold into the kitchen and Elliot followed, the screen door snapping closed behind them.

Stopping in front of the breakfast island, Olivia ran a hand over the smooth marble before drawing a deep breath and turning to face Elliot, who stood uncertainly just inside the door. She was only able to hold the gaze for a second before her eyes widened and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Pivoting quickly, Olivia took off down the hall, her bare feet thudding against the tile. Seconds later, a door slammed and the sound of retching and splashing toilet water travelled down the corridor.

Yes indeed, she was going to feel like hell tomorrow.

When Olivia re-emerged twenty minutes later, Elliot had filled a tall glass with water and placed it on the counter beside two emerald green capsules. As she stood in the entranceway, he pushed the glass in her direction encouragingly. "Take these and drink some water. It'll help you feel better."

Self-consciously, Olivia crossed the room, still embarrassingly unsteady on her feet. She had caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror, and it wasn't pretty. Her skin was ridiculously blotchy, her cheeks haphazardly stained an unnatural red. Dark circles had taken up residence under her eyes and her matted brown hair was disheveled, as if she hadn't brushed it for weeks. She had managed to remove the crusted blood from her left cheek, but other than that, she was completely beyond help.

No wonder the man had been sleeping around on her.

Olivia could feel Elliot's eyes on her as she swallowed the pills with a wince and then drained the rest of the glass of water. Her head was still spinning, her limbs tingling and numb, but the water did soothe her parched, burning throat. Lowering the glass back to the counter, Olivia swallowed hard and prepared herself for the conversation she knew they were about to have.

Despite her preparation, Elliot's first words surprised her.

"You are nothing like your mom. You know that, right?" Elliot's voice was soft, gentle.

"You'd be surprised," Olivia muttered, turning to head into the living room. She didn't look back but knew instinctively that Elliot was behind her, and seconds later the soft fabric couch cushions sunk under both their weights.

With a sigh, Olivia looked over at her ex-husband, squeezing her hands between her thighs as if to stop herself from touching him. "Why Elliot? Why did you do it? If you wanted out, you could have just said so."

Leaning back against the couch, Elliot swallowed hard and scratched his stubbly chin absently. "I didn't want out Olivia. Not for a second. I was in love with you. You were my wife."

"So why did you kiss her?" Olivia's tone was flat, without affect, a perfect reflection of the numbness she felt inside.

His beseeching eyes on her beautiful face, Elliot took a deep breath and told his story.

"My friends always said Kathy had a thing for me, but I didn't believe it. I wish I had. If I had, I would have been more careful that night." Elliot sighed loudly before continuing. "Kathy showed up at my door, in tears. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her, and she said she needed a friend, a male friend, to help her understand why. She was upset, lonely. I thought I could help. I wanted to help."

Elliot shook his head slowly.

"I wasn't a very good friend. I could barely focus on what she was saying. All I could think about was you. God, I was so worried about you that night. You had gone to your mom's to tell her that we were married. I had wanted to come with you, but you were adamant that I stay home, that she hear the news from you, alone, first. The entire time Kathy was talking, I was cursing myself for letting you shoulder a burden that belonged to both of us. I wasn't processing a single thing she was saying. The next thing I know, she's kissing me."

Elliot leaned forward on the couch, fighting the urge to reach across and grab one of Olivia's hands. "I was so shocked it took me a second to react. I was completely caught off guard. Seconds after she started, I pushed her away. You must have walked in during that brief moment I was in shock. I'm sorry."

After a moment, Olivia slowly lifted her eyes to meet his, her expression tentative. "Kathy said it was more than a kiss. She said you were sleeping together."

Elliot bristled angrily, his shoulders stiffening and his face hardening. "Kathy is a liar. I never slept with her Olivia. Not until well after we were divorced."

Forcing his body to relax, Elliot sighed when Olivia remained silent. "Why didn't you say something, tell me what you saw? Why didn't you call me out on it? Why did you just leave?"

Olivia took a deep breath and dropped her gaze back down to her hands. "It was a combination of things. My mom was furious we had gotten married without asking her permission. She was cruel, vengeful. She told me she was going to fire you. I was scared for you, scared for your family. I knew how much you needed that job. And then she went on and on about how it was just a matter of time before you figured out you had made a mistake marrying me. I ignored her when she said it, but then when I saw you and Kathy kissing . . ." Olivia shrugged. "Well, all of a sudden, it didn't seem so farfetched. I thought it would be easier for both of us if I just disappeared. I was wrong."

Elliot's shoulders sagged at her confession. "I'm sorry Olivia. For what you went through that night, physically and mentally. I didn't know you had seen the kiss, and given the shape you were in when you arrived in my living room, I didn't think it was a good time to bring it up. But I would have told you. I'm not trying to make excuses and I wasn't trying to hide anything. I take full responsibility for what happened. I never meant to hurt you. And I would have done whatever it took to make it up to you and care for you and my family. With or without the job your mother offered me."

Olivia looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears and her throat clogged with emotion. Swallowing hard, she could only manage a nod in acceptance of his apology before dropping her gaze again. Smoothly, Elliot shifted closer to her. Reaching out, he used a finger to draw her chin up and pull her eyes back to his.

"Olivia, I promise you, there was nothing going on between Kathy and I. Absolutely nothing. The only woman I wanted was you."

Olivia's heart pounded erratically in her chest as Elliot's thumb stroked over her chin and his gaze dropped to her lips. She could feel his warm breath on her face, his mouth inches away from hers. God help her, she wanted to lose herself in him. Slowly, suggestively, she tilted her head up, giving him permission to make the next move.

Leaning in closer, Elliot kissed her softly.

It was nothing like that night in the kitchen. The kisses weren't frenzied, weren't driven by lust. They were soft, sweet, tender, but still evoked a burning hunger that threatened to consume them both. Elliot's mouth moved on hers passionately, but not demandingly, and she responded enthusiastically to his touch. Somehow they ended up laying on the couch, tangled together, the room silent except for the sounds of their kisses and rustling fabric.

Remembering her inebriated state, Elliot's conscience needled him until he pulled back, breaking the breathless kiss reluctantly. Supporting his weight on his elbow as he lay beside her, he gazed down at Olivia's flushed face, his fingers grasping loose strands of hair and tucking them behind her ears.

Smiling lightly, Olivia reached up and touched his cheek, tracing the lines that had accumulated there during the twelve years she hadn't been a part of his life. Her heart pounded so hard she feared it would burst.

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

They started off in her gut, bubbling and fizzing, building, strengthening, coasting their way up her esophagus, into her mouth, and then out her lips. Normally, they would have met resistance, would have been reined in by common sense, but the alcohol had numbed so many of her barriers that they slipped through virtually effortlessly.

"I love you."

The words hung in the air for only a moment before they both stiffened in shock. Slowly, Elliot pushed himself up into a sitting position, his hands flopping limply to his sides.

"Olivia . . ." Elliot's throat was dry and his voice husky as he stared down at her. A wriggling pain seared his gut and he almost winced from the agony of it as he stood up to get further away from her. "Don't."

Olivia sat up slowly, her face giving away nothing as she looked up at him. She knew she should stop, take back her words, give him an out, but her heart had a mind of its own, and it manipulated her into asking the next question.

"Do you still love me?"

Elliot struggled to breathe while his heart throbbed in his throat. Part of him wanted to go to her, confess his feelings, and then push her warm body into the cushions and finish what they had started that night in the kitchen. But another, more adamant part of him wanted to turn tail and run. That part reminded him mercilessly of how destroyed he had been when she had left. Of how he hadn't wanted to go on. Of how it had felt to have his life ripped away, to have his heart stolen.

And she would leave him again in less than two months to go back to New York. That he was certain of.

He was equally certain he wouldn't survive losing her for a second time.

When he finally spoke, Elliot's voice was unsteady, but clear.

"No, I don't. I'm sorry."

A minute later he was gone, the red taillights of his truck disappearing around a street corner. Olivia walked numbly up the stairs into her bedroom, crashing down on the soft quilt that covered the rickety double bed without shedding her clothes. Drained mentally, physically, and emotionally, she was asleep in moments.

When she awoke early the next morning, Olivia started packing.

It was time to go.


	14. Clinging

**Chapter 13 – Clinging**

"Bottom line, I am an idiot. A complete and utter idiot."

As was often the case in mid-July in Portside, the weather was scorching hot. The sun sat, suspended, at its highest peak, directly above the Benson home, its fierce rays thundering in through the yellow gauze curtains of Olivia's childhood bedroom window. The air was thick, hot, heavy, and reeked of lilacs from the dense bushes that bordered the front porch of the huge Victorian. There was no breeze to soften the sting of the merciless heat. Even the white floor fans spread randomly around the cheery room provided no relief, circulating the dry air but cooling nothing.

As she heaped armful after armful of clothing onto the bed beside her tattered beige suitcase, Olivia felt pearly beads of sweat trickle down her back and slide effortlessly under the waistband of her jean shorts. Most of her mahogany hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, but the few strands that escaped stuck like glue to her damp neck. The throbbing headache she had woken up with did nothing to improve her spirits and, as she puttered about the room, Olivia struggled with a profound sense of melancholy that she couldn't seem to shake.

"_I don't. I'm sorry."_

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

Perching on the edge of the small double bed, Alex looked equally wilted in the bitter heat, her tanned legs crossed as she listened to Olivia recount the events of the previous night.

"You're not an idiot. You were finally honest about your feelings. What's wrong with that?"

Dumping a final load of clothes onto the bed, Olivia sighed and straightened, wiping a sweaty palm on the rough denim of her shorts. "Thanks for trying to make me feel less stupid, but it won't work. I have no idea what came over me. It must have been the alcohol. I don't usually drink like that."

Alex's intelligent blue eyes drifted up from the suitcase to her friend's face as a small, warm smile played on her lips. "Well, I think it's sweet. And way past due. I wondered how long you would dance around your feelings for him. I just wish he had stopped dancing around his for you too."

Grabbing a green T-shirt off the top of the massive clothes heap and folding it carefully, Olivia shook her head slowly.

"You can't force the man to feel something he doesn't feel Al. We had something once, but he's past it. He made that perfectly clear. I am too, I swear. I was just clinging to the familiar. When Elliot and I were sitting on the couch, talking, it felt like old times. It was good, comfortable. In my drunken haze, I attributed that sense of familiarity and comfort to love. Dumb."

Alex scoffed at that suggestion, her eyebrows rising toward her blonde hairline as she leaned back, hands pressing into the soft mattress. "Wow. You and Elliot both suffer from a serious case of denial. You're full of crap Olivia. You love him. Just be honest."

"Your empathy is heartwarming," Olivia muttered, wincing as she bumped her hand against the corner of the worn suitcase. The sore appendage throbbed in protest and pins and needles sizzled up her arm.

Catching the grimace, Alex grinned widely. "Battle injury from your altercation with Kathy last night?"

"Good Lord," Olivia groaned, dropping a pair of jeans into her suitcase before plopping down beside Alex on the bed. "Another stupid thing I did last night. I'm lucky if Kathy doesn't charge me with assault."

Still grinning, Alex slung a graceful arm over Olivia's shoulders. "She won't. No way is she going to broadcast the fact that you cold cocked her. Tell me, how good did that feel? To sock Kathy straight in that huge mouth of hers?"

Olivia laughed, wiping the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. "It felt freaking fantastic. But still, not the best decision I've ever made."

Sobering after a moment, Olivia drew away from Alex and stood up with a sigh, returning her attention to the seemingly endless mound of clothing piled on the bedspread.

"Well, at least one good thing came out of last night. It was a wake-up call. It's time to get back to New York. Get back to work. Get back to normal. This town brings out the worst in me Al."

Alex tried to smile encouragingly in support of her friend's decision, but failed. She stared down at the stuffed suitcase instead, her fingers tugging absently on a loose thread on the bedspread.

"I'm going to miss you. I was looking forward to having you at my big thirtieth birthday party next month. Jim is all gung-ho about planning it. He's got a hall rented out and everything."

Olivia paused for a moment in her packing, reality forming a tough lump in her throat. In New York, there was no Alex, or anyone even close to an Alex. She would miss her friend dearly.

"I'll miss you too, but there's really no need for me to be here anymore. I've hired a company to clean out the rest of my mom's stuff and ship it to local charities. The house is up for sale. I've done everything I needed to do."

Feeling guilty, Olivia sat back down beside her friend and squeezed her hand gently. "But I promise you, I'll work it out so I can come back for your party."

Alex nodded slowly, her pretty face solemn. "So I guess that's it then. You're going to run again."

Alex's tone was more mild than accusatory, but the words still made Olivia tense uncomfortably. Stiffly, she stood up and walked over to her white oak bureau, yanking open a drawer and pretending to stare inside it.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's kinda like twelve years ago, isn't it? You're upset, and instead of dealing with it, you're taking off. Trying to leave the pain behind rather than facing it."

"This is nothing like twelve years ago," Olivia snapped, her fingers clutching a handful of underwear so tightly she feared the delicate fabric would rip. "I have no ties here anymore. No relationship that I am leaving behind. There is no reason for me to stay. I'm being practical. Logical."

Alex held firm, her thin arms crossed over her chest but her voice soft. "There's nothing logical about love Olivia. You're hurting, and you're leaving. It's exactly the same."

Olivia had just opened her mouth to defend her choices when the sound of feet pounding up the stairs distracted her from the argument. Both women turned to the hallway just in time to see Chase bounding up the lacquered wooden planks, two at a time, a huge grin on his face.

"Hey Mom! Hi Alex." Dumping his backpack in the hall, Chase skidded into the bedroom, his eyes twinkling brightly. "Last night was so fun! Me and Joe played baseball on Playstation and beat some other teams online. Then this morning, we had pancakes and went down to the ocean for a swi-"

Chase's narrative screeched to an abrupt halt as he absorbed what Olivia was doing in the bedroom. Instantly, the broad smile melted off his freckled face and his dark eyes grew anxious. "What are you doing? What's wrong?"

Olivia took a deep breath and released it slowly, dreading the conversation to come. Her news was not going to be well-received. "I'm packing up Chase. We're heading back to New York this afternoon."

His complexion paling, Chase's jaw dropped and his small hands crumpled into fists. The fire in his eyes and the fierceness of his tone were vintage Elliot.

"Why? No."

Olivia started visibly at Chase's outright refusal, her eyes snapping up from the suitcase and leveling on her son. "What did you say to me?"

"No!" Chase's voice jumped up an octave and the ropy tendons in his arms pulsed against his tanned skin. "That's not fair!"

Olivia sucked in a deep breath, struggling to remain calm and hold her ground. The anxious upheaval on her son's face and the bitter anger in his tone was heartbreaking. "You knew we weren't staying here forever. We have to go back to New York someday Chase."

"Yeah, but not today!" Chase protested loudly, his previously pale face now flaming red. "You said we were staying until the end of August. I don't want to go back. I like it here!"

Olivia's attention was momentarily diverted from her son's distress when Elliot unexpectedly appeared at the top of the stairs, frowning. Her stomach fluttered excitedly but she ripped her eyes away and ignored him, turning her gaze back to Chase. "I know, Buddy, but it's time to go."

"That's not fair! I hate New York. I want to stay here!"

Silently, Elliot drew up beside Chase and dropped a thick hand on his small shoulder in a failed attempt to calm him. Tears sprung into Chase's eyes as his hands dropped to his hips defiantly.

"I'm not going."

"You don't have a choice here Chase," Olivia warned, her tone firm. Elliot's presence was unnerving and she was desperate for the argument to end so she could send him on his merry way. "We're going back. Now go to your room, and start packing up your stuff."

"No!" Chase refused again, craning his thin neck to look up at his mentor. "Elliot, can't I stay with you?"

"If your mom says it's time to go Chase, it's time to go," Elliot rumbled, his voice monotone as his gaze shifted from the young boy to Olivia.

"This isn't fair!" Chase repeated at top volume, his shoulders hitching up to his bright red ears. Tears streamed down his rosy young cheeks and he angrily brushed them away. "I hate you Mom! You never think about me."

Chase spun around and pushed by Elliot roughly, kicking his backpack violently on the way past. Seconds later, his bedroom door slammed with a resounding echo and all was silent.

"Well, that went well," Olivia muttered dryly, folding her arms across her chest and sinking down onto the bed beside Alex. A pile of shorts toppled over and spilled into an eclectic heap onto the floor.

Elliot chuckled at Olivia's understated reaction but was quickly silenced by a harsh look from Alex.

"Is there a reason you're hanging around here?"

The venom dripping from Alex's level voice caught both of the other adults off guard.

Elliot shifted awkwardly in the doorway, his stomach roiling. "Uh, well, I was hoping I could speak to you Olivia. Alone."

Alex shot off the bed aggressively, shoulders square, posture defensive. "Anything you have to say to Liv, you can say to me too."

Elliot's eyes were soft and pleading when Olivia finally looked up to meet his gaze curiously. "Olivia. Please?"

Sighing resignedly, Olivia dropped a hand to her friend's arm. "It's okay Alex. Really. Why don't you go downstairs, fix us a couple of glasses of wine. I'll be down in a second."

Shoulders loosening just slightly in acceptance, Alex reached down and pulled Olivia into a hug, whispering quietly into her ear "Anything worth having is worth fighting for. Don't run from it."

Spinning around and squaring her shoulders haughtily, Alex stalked toward the door and Elliot shifted out of the way to allow her to pass, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. Her body language was frigid and Elliot struggled to meet her gaze as she stopped in front of him, her mouth set in a thin line.

"I like you Elliot, but you're behaving like a real asshole."

Only when the sound of Alex's footfalls had faded from the stairs into the kitchen did Elliot shake his head with wry amusement and turn to Olivia, his chest tight. The thought of her leaving again should not have bothered him, but it did. Deeply. She looked tired and hung over but beautiful as she busied herself again, organizing her suitcase mindlessly in an effort to avoid making eye contact.

"God, I'm a horrible mother." Olivia tossed a final pair of jeans into the suitcase with a sigh and closed the lid, leaning on it carefully to squish it shut.

"No, you're not," Elliot insisted firmly, the low rumble of his voice sending pleasurable shivers up her spine. Tentatively, he walked over and lowered himself onto the bed beside her as she stood, close enough that their legs nearly touched. "You're a wonderful mother. Chase is just upset."

"No, I'm not," Olivia murmured, twisting her hands anxiously as she straightened back up. "He's right. I'm selfish. I'm having trouble dealing with being back in Portside, dealing with my mom's affairs, dealing with . . . everything really. So what do I do? I pull him out of the only place I have ever seen him truly happy. That's not what a good mother would do."

Reaching over, Elliot gently placed a hand over hers, stilling the nervous twisting movement.

"That's not true. That boy factors into every decision you make. You love him. You provide for him. You are a wonderful mother." Swallowing hard, Elliot cleared his throat uncomfortably. "If you think it's time to go back, you need to trust that."

Olivia chortled, shifting away and running a hand through her hair. "I'm not sure what I think anymore. Look, I'm really sorry about last night. Even after I gave you nothing but grief, you went out of your way to make sure I got home okay. Then, thanks to the alcohol, I said some things I shouldn't have said and made you uncomfortable. I really do appreciate you helping me out. Is . . . is Kathy okay?"

A small smile started to spread across Elliot's lips, but he successfully smothered it. "I don't know. I assume so. I'm not about to call her and find out."

Olivia frowned, remnants of her conversation with Kathy still drifting in her mind. "I thought you two were back together."

Elliot snorted. "No way in hell. Look, she was a real bitch to you last night Olivia. Completely out of line."

"Well, I didn't exactly behave with class myself," Olivia grunted, turning her attention to her closet. Grabbing several flowery summer dresses off the rack, Olivia lowered them onto the bed and removed the green plastic hangers methodically, desperate for a distraction from Elliot's intense gaze.

"Is that what this sudden leaving thing is all about? Last night?"

Elliot's voice was soft and Olivia sighed internally, brushing lint off the fabric of a purple silk sheath.

_Please don't make this harder than it already is._

"I thought I could handle coming back El. I was wrong. I just keep making bad choice after bad choice. I need to get out of here. This is my past. New York is my future."

Elliot quietly watched Olivia pack for a moment before standing awkwardly. So many sentiments crowded into his head at once that he struggled to organize them logically.

_Stay._

_Don't go._

_Please don't leave me again._

_I love you. I need you. We can work this out._

But that wasn't what he said.

"I'll go talk to Chase. See if I can get him calmed down a bit. And then, if you want, I can help you pack and load up your car."

Heartbroken, Olivia kept her eyes trained on the dresses and her breathing even as she struggled with all of the things she wanted to say.

_I don't want you to help me pack. I want you to ask me to stay._

_Beg me not to go._

_Tell me that you love me. Tell me that you need me. Tell me we can work this out._

But that wasn't what she said.

"That'd be great," Olivia said with a faint nod, folding her dresses neatly and placing them on top of the now overflowing suitcase before smiling at him gently. "Thank you."

Elliot moved to leave, pausing for only a moment in the door frame, one hand resting on the smooth wooden wainscoting.

"Give it one more week." The words blurted out without any forethought at all, and Elliot clamped his jaw shut tightly to keep more from escaping and complicating things.

Frowning, her brows furrowed in confusion, Olivia glanced up at him. "What?"

"Don't go . . . yet."

At first, Elliot struggled to force the words through the complicated net of emotion in his throat, but they tumbled out easily once he got started. "My mom rented a campsite for five days, in Smoky Mountain National Park. It's beautiful there. Mom, Tom, the kids, we're all going. Come with us. There's plenty of room. We have a spare tent. It would be good for Chase. It would give him time to adjust. It's just a week. What could it hurt?"

_I'm not ready to lose you again._

Straightening, Olivia regarded Elliot carefully for a moment, her face somber as her mind whirled.

_I shouldn't even be considering this. It's a bad idea, and I know it. _

_I need to leave, to get out of here, far away from him, far away from the pain. I would be a masochist for agreeing to this._

But that's not what she said.

"Okay. Why not?"


	15. Nothing

**Chapter 14 – Nothing**

"Ouch! Son of a bitch!"

The telescopic pole designed to support the center of the tent pinched Olivia's finger as she attempted to maneuver it up into the apex of the green fabric. Wincing, she slipped the injured digit into her mouth to soothe the sting. The North Carolinian sun that held court over Smoky Mountain National Park beat through the thin tent material, bathing her in an emerald glow that discolored her skin. They had only arrived an hour ago, and Olivia was already regretting her decision.

She was far too much of a city girl to truly enjoy camping. The bruises, allergic rash, and multitude of bug bites were a testament to that.

Her dislike of camping aside, the Smoky Mountains were stunning. The second she stepped out of the car, Olivia was floored by the immensity of the mountains that surrounded her. Forests of evergreens and spruce firs coated the land for as far as the eye could see. The air was fresh despite the high humidity at ground level and the variety of plant and animal life was staggering. She had spent the first ten minutes after their arrival turning around in a circle, taking it all in.

It was the most beautiful place she had ever seen.

"Okay, that's it. Work with me here," Olivia muttered, stabbing the pole upward, searching for the sweet spot. Sitting cross-legged on the lumpy ground, she had been working at getting the tent up for the last fifteen minutes, having refused both Elliot's and Tom's offers of assistance. Her irritation grew with each unsuccessful attempt, but she refused to cave, even when she heard the snickers of people from surrounding campsites who were watching her struggle.

This time for sure.

Finally, reluctantly, the pole slipped into place, and the proud green tent billowed in the breeze. With a satisfied sigh, Olivia flopped down on her back and rested her hands on her abdomen, staring up at the fabric ceiling. The sun was a bright splotch of color through the material, its warmth filtering down to where she lay. Closing her eyes, Olivia absorbed the nature sounds that floated lightly through the air. It was certainly peaceful. Very peaceful.

Maybe camping wouldn't be so bad after all . . .

Olivia had almost dozed off in her cozy cocoon when suddenly the telescopic rod folded in onto itself and fell down beside her with a thud. Following suit, the side pieces gave way and the tent imploded and collapsed, the green fabric fluttering down to cover her like a giant bed sheet.

"Of course that just happened," Olivia groaned, scrunching her eyes closed. "I hate camping."

"Sure you don't want some help in there?" Elliot's dry voice resonated above her, just over her left shoulder.

"Nope. I've got it all under control thanks." Olivia's words were muffled by her pea green shroud and Elliot chuckled. Imagining a handsome smile breaking out on his face, Olivia felt her heart flutter.

"Yeah, it looks like it."

The ground vibrated as Elliot moved to the heaped fabric by her feet, and Olivia heard the canvas ruffle as he searched for the tent opening. When he finally located it, he crawled inside, sorting through the blinding maze of fabric until he found her flip flop clad feet. The green fabric molded and yielded to his form as he used her body as a guide, his eyes drinking in the long legs and slender curves until he was positioned directly over her, his light eyes gazing down into her dark ones.

"Hi." Elliot's voice was more than a little ragged as he rested on his hands and knees above her.

"Hi." Olivia spoke so softly she could barely hear herself over the thrumming of blood in her ears. She lay still beneath him, feeling more than a little vulnerable and more than a little aroused. The green canvas draped over him created a warm shelter, and Olivia wished they could fade away into a different world inside this comforting cocoon. A world where the events of twelve years ago had never happened. A world where Elliot knew Chase was his son. A world where he loved her . . .

Sweat beaded on Elliot's brow and he swiped at it with the back of his hand as he slowly shifted over to lay beside her. Olivia turned her head to look at him, her hair splayed across the floor of the tent, her lips slightly open, her dark eyes locked on his face.

Christ, he wanted her. Wanted her more than he had wanted anything in his entire life. But that was all it was. Lust. She was an attractive woman, who could blame him? But that was _all_ it was.

Sure. He was having a hard time fooling even himself anymore.

"I hate camping," Olivia murmured, the heat and proximity of his body frying all her synapses. Absently, she moved her still stinging finger back up to her lips. It was only when his eyes dropped hungrily to her mouth that she realized the action was suggestive and removed it with a pop.

"Camping obviously doesn't think much of you either," Elliot ground out, shifting away from her just enough so she wouldn't feel him harden against her thigh.

"Uncle Elliot? Olivia? What are you guys doing in there?"

The sound of Autumn's curious voice snapped them both back to reality and simultaneously they rolled away from each other. The fabric clung to them like a layer of leeches and soon they were both tangled, flapping frantically to get loose. Elliot found the tent opening first and scurried out, his handsome face mottled red. Olivia clambered out immediately after him, her hands shaking just slightly.

"I'm just helping Olivia put up her tent Autumn," Elliot said quickly, moving efficiently to the far side of the tent and effortlessly raising it. Autumn watched them both carefully for a moment before shrugging and skipping off to where Tom and Bernie were making a concerted effort not to stare.

"Thanks," Olivia murmured stiffly, staring down at the ground as she clasped her hands in front of her.

"No problem," Elliot muttered, equally intent on avoiding eye contact.

"Well, I'm going to-"

"Guess I should-"

They both started talking at the same time and then laughed, the tension of the moment dissipating.

"I'm just going to put some stuff in the tent, then I'll help your mom with dinner," Olivia said with a smile, jerking her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the piled duffel bags.

"Sounds good," Elliot murmured with a nod, watching her intently as she turned to walk away. "Hey, Olivia?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes questioning.

"I know it's not your thing, but I'm glad you came."

Surprised, Olivia smiled and Elliot winked at her before turning and heading over to Bernie and Tom.

No, maybe camping _wouldn't _be so bad after all.

* * *

On the second day, she couldn't breathe.

Her thighs burned. Her muscles trembled. Her knees creaked. Blisters formed on her heels and sweat stained a dark line down her spine.

At that particular moment, Olivia hated hiking almost as much as she hated camping.

The paved trail that wound up to Clingmans Dome from the busy parking lot was steep. The altitude thinned the air in Olivia's lungs, the pressure squeezing her chest like a vise. The previous night's rain stained the trail a dark gray but brightened the spruce fir coniferous forest that surrounded the path. The rain clouds had given way to a clear day in the Smokies and, as they hiked up through the evaporating mist of the mountains, pockets of sunshine seeped through. With each step, the temperature grew cooler and the mixture of the damp mountain air with her copious sweat had Olivia shivering with cold despite her exertion.

Christ, she was out of shape. Either that, or getting old.

"How you doing back here?"

Olivia's head snapped up at the sound of Elliot's cheerful voice, noticing for the first time she had fallen behind the rest of the group. Bernie, Chase, Cyndi, and Joe trudged along a good twenty feet ahead of her, chatting merrily and appearing significantly less beleaguered by the short but steep incline than Olivia. Elliot had stopped and lagged behind waiting for her, his eyes sparkling as he took a drink from his silver canteen.

While the physical exertion made Olivia feel wilted, it made Elliot look alive. The sheen of sweat that coated his face from the climb gave him a healthy glow she envied. His breathing was easy and he looked more relaxed than she had seen him since returning to Portside.

"I'm swell," Olivia grunted, swatting at a pesky mosquito and swiping at her face with her forearm. "Can we set up base camp here and make for the summit tomorrow?"

Elliot laughed, a happy sound that drew the attention of a group of women sitting on a bench along the inclining trail. Olivia scowled as she watched them elbow each other and whisper, their eyes scanning over Elliot rabidly. She didn't like it, but she could hardly blame them. Elliot looked absolutely delicious in his sweatpants and a long sleeve T-shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders and fit chest.

"Come on, we're almost there. You can do it," Elliot encouraged her, linking his arm through hers and propelling her forward. They walked for a few moments in silence, their eyes flickering over the beautiful scenery unfolding around and beneath them as they scaled the concrete bridge that led to the Clingmans Dome Observation Tower.

"I thought I was in good shape," Olivia wheezed, struggling to draw a deep breath as they trudged upward. "How wrong was I? It's back to jogging every morning. I can barely breathe."

Elliot was all smiles, his eyes soaking in the beautiful vistas blossoming around them. "It's not you. It's a difficult trek. Clingmans Dome is the highest mountain in the Smokies and the highest point in Tennessee. The air is thin and this path is pretty much straight up. Did you know the rocks here were created from ancient ocean sediments nearly one billion years ago?"

Olivia smiled, glancing at Elliot out of the corner of her eye, absorbing his simple joy. He had been in a fantastic mood all day, both he and Bernie bounding around the campsite enthusiastically as they prepared for an afternoon of hiking. "You're really into this place, aren't you?"

Elliot grinned, his teeth white against his tan skin. "I love it here. We've been coming here for a week every summer since I was a baby."

"I remember. That summer we were dating, you wanted me to go too, but I couldn't get off work."

"I didn't appreciate it as much in my younger years, but some of my fondest memories are here. Hiking, camping, fishing with my dad. It's such a peaceful place. It cleanses me, refreshes me."

"It's wonderful you have a place like this," Olivia murmured, scratching absently at a bug bite on her arm. "It must have been a real refuge for you and your family, especially over the last few years, with Julie being sick."

Elliot nodded slowly, his grin fading. He dropped his arm from hers and hooked his thumbs in the straps of his khaki knapsack, letting the subject of Julie fall like a ton of bricks. "Cyndi, Autumn, and Joe all adore it here. It's not like we live in a big city like you, but Portside is urban enough that we can still appreciate being here. Someday, I'll bring my own kids. Teach them about the history of the Smoky Mountains. Let them commune with nature."

_That 'someday' is today_, Olivia thought, her eyes flickering to where Chase laughed with Bernie. _You just don't know it._

"You still want four kids?" Olivia asked, trying to sound casual despite her undeniable curiosity.

Elliot smiled again, dodging two young children who darted in front of them despite their parents' warning to watch where they were going. "Yeah. We'll see though. I don't really want to have kids past the age of forty. And that milestone is sneaking up on me way too fast."

"You've still got lots of time," Olivia murmured, peeling a strand of sweat-soaked hair off her face. The concrete observation tower loomed just around a curve, maybe a hundred feet ahead. She saw Bernie and the three kids break into a trot, talking excitedly as they neared the apex.

Elliot glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "How about you? You want more kids?"

Olivia smiled blankly. "I do, but I can't. I haven't been able to carry a baby to term since Chase. Doctors aren't sure why."

A knot twisted in Elliot's gut. "I'm sorry."

Olivia shrugged, her knapsack gliding up and down her back in time with the motion. "It's okay. Everything happens for a reason, right? I've got Chase. That counts for a lot."

Elliot smiled at the young boy in question, his gaze blatantly affectionate. "He's a great kid."

Olivia had opened her mouth to agree when Elliot suddenly halted in his tracks and grabbed her arm. Alarmed, she stopped abruptly. "El? What's wrong?"

The wide grin that had faded earlier was back on Elliot's face. "Close your eyes."

Olivia frowned, confused, as excited voices floated through the air. "Close my . . . Why?"

Elliot's face was alight with happiness. "Just trust me. Close your eyes."

Without clearly understanding why she obeyed, Olivia allowed her eyelids to flutter closed. She jumped when Elliot's hand slipped into hers, her heart pounding in her throat. His skin was warm and sticky as their fingers linked together. He tugged on her hand gently to lead her forward and she hesitated, uncertain of her footing.

"It's okay," Elliot murmured quietly, sensing her indecision. "Do you trust me?"

She did, so she allowed him to lead her, carefully weaving through the thickening crowd of tourists. After a minute he stopped and released her hand, leaving her adrift and blind, a cool wind tickling her nose.

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Not yet." Elliot's voice was suddenly behind her, his breath warm against her ear. Olivia shivered but kept her eyes closed as instructed. A moment later she felt his hands placed chastely on her waist and he herded her forward, his body gently brushing against her. After a few feet he halted again, his hands drifting from her waist to her hands. Gently, he guided them forward until she felt the cool metal of the railing against her palm. As his hands dropped, Olivia wrapped hers around the rough metal and breathed evenly.

"Okay. Open your eyes." One of Elliot's hands had migrated to the small of her back as Olivia opened her eyes and let the light flood in.

The view literally took the little breath she had left away.

The Clingmans Dome Observation Tower soared over the forest and provided a stunning three hundred and sixty degree panorama of the nearby Smoky Mountains. The peaks of the spruce fir trees that encroached up the mountains rose like church spires toward the sky, ringed with a fading mist. The colossal mountains spread out around them in all directions, and from her vantage point Olivia could see the rooftops of buildings in towns miles away.

Slowly, Olivia released the railing and turned all the way around, taking in the Smoky Mountains from all angles.

"Pretty incredible, isn't it?" Olivia could feel Elliot's warm eyes on her face, absorbing her awed reaction. "Surreal almost. Being up here helps me realize how small and insignificant I really am in the gigantic scheme of things."

Still speechless, Olivia turned back around to rest her forearms against the railing. Elliot moved over beside her, their shoulders touching as they looked out over the beautiful vista together.

"I'm not sure if it's the thin air or the amazing scenery, but I always feel my head clearing up here. It puts into perspective what really matters. My family, my health . . ."

Elliot trailed off and fell silent, his expression almost dreamy. Olivia smiled slightly as she glanced over at him, amazed at how his already handsome features became even more attractive when his face softened, the stress lines flattened out, and his lips eased up into a smile.

He was almost a different man.

Elliot caught her staring, turning to look at her with a smile.

"What?"

"Nothing," Olivia replied with a grin, turning her attention back to the sea of trees that fanned out below them. "Just enjoying the scenery."

* * *

By the time the Benson-Stabler clan left the observation tower, still buzzing from the stunning beauty of the view, the sun was flirting with the horizon, its orange light illuminating the surrounding mountains with an ethereal halo. The thin air grew denser as the concrete trail snaked down through the trees and to the parking lot, the odor of fir needles potent.

The drive back toward the campsite was quiet, both the children and adults weary from a day of hiking capped off by the trip up Clingmans Dome. At Bernie's suggestion, they stopped for a picnic dinner near the base of Abrahms Falls to refuel. The small but powerful waterfall had a picturesque pool at its base and the area was crowded with photo-taking tourists when they arrived, but gradually cleared out as the sun dipped lower. By the time they had finished eating their meal of cold sandwiches, potato chips, and fruit, the sextet was completely alone.

After digesting, Bernie stood and brushed the crumbs off her hands, excitedly announcing her plans to get a closer look at the waterfall before the light faded completely. Olivia was amazed and more than a little envious of the strength and stamina the older woman possessed. Bernie had been bouncing around all day and still had more energy than Olivia.

The three children jumped up eagerly to accompany Bernie and Olivia promised to meet them there after she cleaned up. Elliot volunteered to stay behind and help and they worked quickly together, repacking knapsacks, folding up the tablecloth, and tossing all the garbage into nearby green bins.

"Olivia!"

Olivia spun around as Elliot's sharp whisper startled her, her eyes wide.

"What?"

Elliot held a finger to his lips to shush her and pointed a few feet away into the bushes. Olivia pivoted slowly and caught sight of a beautiful white-tailed deer standing at the edge of the forest. The animal's intelligent black eyes stared back and Olivia stood perfectly still, mere feet away from the gorgeous creature. The two sized each other up for several moments before the doe dipped her head, grabbed a mouthful of leaves, and strode off into the shadows.

Olivia released the breath she had been holding in one big rush. "Wow. Gorgeous."

Elliot grinned widely, returning his attention to the knapsack he was packing. "Not something you see every day in Manhattan huh?"

Olivia laughed. "Not so much. Not outside of pictures and museum exhibits anyway."

"Do you like it? New York I mean." The question was serious and Elliot's face was sober when Olivia glanced up from the tablecloth she was folding.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. It's a busy city. Lots to do. Lots of culture. It's beautiful too, in its own way. The skyline still takes my breath away."

Elliot nodded slightly, watching as Olivia shoved the tablecloth into her backpack and zipped it up. Abandoning the pack against a gnarled tree, she strolled over to a clearing in the trees that looked out at Abrahms Falls. Her eyes focused thoughtfully on the rushing water, she lowered herself down gingerly on a rock outcropping and wrapped her arms around her knees.

Elliot hesitated for only a moment before joining her, perching on the rock to her right.

"I couldn't do it. Live in New York." Elliot watched his mother and the three children stare down into the swirling pool at the base of the falls. "I love the quiet too much."

Unsure of what to say to that, Olivia just nodded. She didn't recall asking him to move there, but his hard tone suggested she had. "Well, it's not for everyone."

"It's not for Chase."

Olivia tensed just slightly but tried to keep it from showing in her voice. "Well, like I said the other day, he really doesn't have a choice."

_But he did, didn't he? He could choose to live in Portside with his father. And once she came clean, she knew she would give him that choice, because she loved him too much not to. It would kill her, but she would let him choose._

The sky darkened above them, the air still, the only noise the thundering water in the distance and the growing symphony of awakening night animals. Lost in her thoughts, Olivia's eyes drifted up to the indigo carpet above them, and she saw it.

The first star of the night.

"Look," Olivia murmured quietly, pointing up. Elliot followed her finger and spotted the dim pinprick of light, twinkling merrily hundreds of miles away. "Another thing you don't see much of in Manhattan."

"Make a wish," Elliot said, nudging her gently with his elbow, a small smile on his face.

Closing her eyes, Olivia did.

_Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight._

_I wish for Elliot to kiss me. I want more, so much more than that from him, but I would settle for a kiss. _

When she reopened her eyes after a moment, Elliot was staring at her, his eyes sparkling.

"What?" Olivia asked, clearing her throat when her voice turned raspy.

"Nothing," Elliot replied with a grin, reluctantly turning his attention back to his family at the base of the pool. "Just enjoying the scenery."

Olivia blushed and the pair sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying the dying light of the day before Elliot spoke again.

"So you and Jake. How's that going?" The question was gruff, and Elliot avoided her eyes as he asked it.

Surprised by the random question, Olivia stammered a little. "Uh, well, I like him. He's a nice guy. I don't really think it's going anywhere, but he's been very kind to me."

Elliot nodded shortly, still avoiding her gaze, his eyes drifting back up to the night sky. "How about back in New York? You seeing anyone?"

"Uh, no. No one. Not even casually. Why?"

Elliot shrugged, a careful mask of disinterest slapped on his face. "Just trying to make conversation." Standing up abruptly, he stretched. "We should get back to the campsite before it gets any darker. Tom will be sending out the search party soon."

Olivia frowned, her head whirling from the rapid direction shifts in the conversation. Elliot had turned his back on her and was striding off in the direction of the waterfall, his shoulders tense. "Elliot, wait."

With obvious reluctance, Elliot stopped, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and slowly turning to face her as she trotted up to him.

"I need to talk to you. About Chase."

Elliot frowned worriedly at the look of anxiety on Olivia's face. "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"He's fine. But there's something you-"

"Elliot! Olivia!" Bernie's melodic voice carried over the still air, and both Elliot and Olivia glanced toward the waterfall. Bernie stood on the flat rocks that surrounded the choppy pool, waving frantically, motioning for them to join her. "Come on, let's go for a swim!"

Slinging a leg over the short chain link fence that warned of danger, Bernie clambered onto the other side of the rocks, inches from the water.

"Mom! Don't!" Elliot called, breaking into a sprint. Taking off after him, Olivia felt nausea flood her system as she flashed back to the stories she had heard about the people who had died swimming in that pool, sucked under by merciless undertows and strong currents.

Bernie paid Elliot's warning no heed, waving merrily at the anxious children as she kicked off her shoes and stepped carefully to the edge of the slippery rocks. Shrugging out of her sweatshirt, she curled her toes over the edge of the rocks and gracefully dove into the cold water.

By the time Elliot and Olivia reached the side of the pool, Bernie still hadn't surfaced.

* * *

"You could have died Mother!"

The hiss and snap of the large campfire did nothing to drown out the roar of Elliot's voice as he paced back and forth, his hands clenched into fists by his sides. Meekly, Bernie sat as close as possible to the leaping flames, holding out her hands to warm them, legs crossed, head down, shivering. She had changed out of her soaked clothing since returning to the campsite, but the chill from the water remained indelibly in her bones.

Elliot had been too angry to change and drops of icy water flicked off his skin as he spun and stalked back and forth. When Bernie hadn't surfaced, Elliot had charged into the water after her and found her struggling with the undertow. With Olivia's help, he had dragged her out of the water, coughing and sputtering, frightened and apologetic, but nothing she said could diffuse Elliot's anger.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Couldn't you read the signs?" Elliot's enraged voice carried and people from adjacent campsites glanced over nervously. Tom and the kids sat uncomfortably around the outskirts of the fire, avoiding eye contact.

"She knows it was silly El," Olivia snapped sharply, appearing out of her tent clutching a warm blanket. Crouching down, she gently draped it over Bernie and rubbed the older woman's shoulders gently in an attempt to warm her. "Drop it, okay?"

Elliot ignored her, continuing to stalk angrily. "Jesus, what kind of example are you setting, doing something so stupid? You could have died!"

Across the fire, Olivia noticed Autumn's lower lip trembling and her wide eyes filling with tears. The other kids looked equally stricken, unnerved by the tension between the adults.

On his next pass, Olivia stood and cut Elliot off, forcing him to cease pacing and look her in the eye. Her steady voice was quiet but firm. "El, that's enough. You're upsetting the kids. Go for a walk. Cool down."

The fire in Elliot's eyes burned fiercely for a moment longer before finally extinguishing. His posture remained stiff, but he backed away and did as she suggested, stalking off in the general direction of the forest. The atmosphere around the fire relaxed but stayed silent until Tom finally ushered the children off to bed and Bernie slunk away into her tent, her good spirits completely evaporated.

* * *

By the time Elliot returned, the campfire had petered out to a weak red glow and the surrounding campsites were vacant of any signs of life. Aside from an occasional snap from the fire, all was quiet, and Elliot stepped carefully, trying to avoid treading on a telltale twig.

He nearly jumped a mile when Olivia spoke.

"You'll catch a chill, skulking around for hours in wet clothes like that."

Elliot's eyes scanned the darkness and locked on Olivia, sitting cross-legged on a blanket on the far side of the dying fire. Clad in a sweatshirt and yoga pants, her hair pulled back, she had removed all of her makeup, and her face was so naturally stunning it stole his breath.

"What are you still doing up?" Elliot grunted, shoving all emotion down into the depths of his stomach.

"Waiting for you," Olivia replied mildly, brushing loose hair out of her eyes. "I wanted to make sure you didn't get eaten by a bear."

Elliot smiled despite himself. "I don't think even a black bear would have tangled with me in the mood I was in."

Olivia laughed, her eyes shining in the glow of the fire. "No, probably not."

Reaching to her right, she grabbed an armful of clothing and tossed it to him. "I took some clothes out of your tent. Figured I would save you waking Tom and Joe while you rooted around for something dry."

"Thanks."

Elliot was cold, very cold, and he hesitated for only a moment before stripping the damp long sleeve T-shirt over his head. Jaw dropping, Olivia couldn't help but stare. She hadn't seen him with his shirt off in twelve years, and his body had gotten even better with time. He was muscled but lean, and his chest radiated a health earned from hours at the gym and a physical job. His shoulders were broad and his arms well-defined.

"What?" Elliot asked playfully, enjoying her hungry stare. The question snapped Olivia back to reality and she averted her eyes, thankful the darkness covered the blush spreading up her cheeks.

"Nothing."

Elliot bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning too widely as he slipped out of his sweatpants. Glancing around the surrounding campsites to be sure they were alone, he slid down his boxers, amused at the surprised squeak that escaped Olivia's throat.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before Olivia," Elliot said with barely concealed glee, taking his sweet time shimmying into a dry pair of boxer briefs. The thought of her looking at him naked was obviously arousing, but she wasn't looking at him to know that.

"Yeah, but it's been a while," Olivia replied inanely, picking nervously at the patterned blanket on which she sat.

"Hasn't changed any since twelve years ago."

Fully dressed and suddenly feeling extremely warm, Elliot lowered himself down beside her, crossing his legs to match her posture and trying to steer the subject back to something more appropriate.

"How's Mom?"

"She's doing okay. Sheepish. But she warmed up right away and seemed fine when she went to bed. It definitely was not her smartest move, and she knows it. Whatever possessed her to do something so dangerous?"

Elliot was quiet for a moment before answering the question. "I think she's off her meds again."

Olivia's stomach twisted as she stared down into the dying embers of the campfire. She hadn't forgotten that Bernie was bipolar, but she had seemed so stable lately that Olivia hadn't really given it much thought. There was no doubt that Bernie had been manic today. That explained the boundless energy.

"She was doing so well. It was a rough year with Julie being so sick. I thought for sure she would fall off the wagon then, but she didn't. It was a tough time, but she held it together and stayed on her meds. I was so proud of her." Elliot shook his head regretfully. "I don't know for sure she's not taking them, but lately she's been up and down again. I check her pill bottles daily, but she knows that. She could just be throwing them out."

Olivia fought the urge to reach over and place a comforting hand on his knee. Elliot had shouldered the burden of keeping his mother on track ever since his father passed away, and it weighed heavily on him.

"Did you want me to talk to her?" Olivia asked softly, her eyes still trained on the dying fire.

"No, it's okay, I'll deal with it," Elliot replied gruffly. "It's not your problem. You have enough on your plate."

Unable to stifle the urge any longer, Olivia reached over and rested a hand on Elliot's knee. His eyes flickered to it momentarily before returning blindly to the fire.

"It's okay to ask for help you know." Olivia's tone was mild, treading carefully so as to not upset him further.

"I've got it under control Olivia." Elliot's voice was sharp, and he felt guilty when she withdrew her hand and folded it back into her lap. She was just trying to be nice, and the contact had been welcome.

Sighing loudly, Elliot forced himself to relax. "Our conversation got interrupted earlier. You said you needed to talk about Chase. What's going on?"

Olivia hesitated visibly, knowing that the safe moment to have that discussion had passed. Elliot had enough going on with his mother; further upsetting news would not help the situation. The truth had waited this long after all. What was another day? She could tell him tomorrow when he was mellow again.

"Oh, it was nothing. I was just hoping that when you guys go fishing, you could try to get him pumped up about going back to New York. He really looks up to you."

The thought of Chase leaving made Elliot sick to his stomach, but he agreed anyway.

"Sure. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Slowly, Olivia heaved herself to her feet and smiled down at him. "I'm exhausted. All this fresh air. Try to get some rest. Things will look brighter in the morning."

"I hope so." Elliot reached over and grabbed the dousing pail, extinguishing the remainder of the weak fire. Wiping his hands on his sweatpants, he too stood, and they walked the few feet to the tents together.

"Well, goodnight," Olivia murmured awkwardly, avoiding his eyes as she reached for the zipper of her tent and prepared to draw it down quietly.

"Hey." The appearance of Elliot's warm hand on her arm made Olivia straighten. She had absolutely no time to react further before his mouth lowered on hers and he kissed her, gently and briefly. "Thanks for being so sweet."

With a small grin, Elliot disappeared into the tent he shared with Tom and Joe, leaving Olivia standing outside hers, trembling pleasantly.

Tomorrow, she would analyze the situation further. Tomorrow, she would take the time to ponder the mixed messages he was sending. Tomorrow, she would try to understand his motives.

Tonight, Olivia just looked up at the starry sky and smiled.


	16. Never

_A/N – This chapter is rated M for sexual content_

**Chapter 15 – Never**

"I can't do it!"

Thigh deep in rushing water, Chase's freckled face was the picture of frustrated concentration as he reared his arm back and attempted to cast his fishing lure into the heart of the burbling brook. The rod whistled cheerfully through the air but the bright yellow lure refused to follow its lead, dropping unceremoniously into the river only a foot or so away. Frowning angrily, Chase reeled the line in jerkily, tugging violently when the lure snagged on a bed of moss covered rocks to his left.

His own crimson red fishing rod in hand, Elliot sloshed downstream and freed the lure, careful not to disturb the slippery rocks. "Yes you can, I know you can. You're doing great, you just released the line a bit too early."

Fighting the strong river current, Elliot trudged back to stand behind the young boy, ruffling his sandy hair affectionately. "Let's try it together again."

The morning sun warming his shoulders, Elliot reached around Chase and covered the boy's small hand, his thumb dangling over the reel release. "Okay, pull your arm back. Perfect. That's it. Now swing your arm around and . . . release!"

Biting his bottom lip in concentration, Elliot pushed Chase's thumb down on the line release and the lure whizzed through the air, splashing down a good ten feet away in the middle of the river.

"See! There you go!" He came around to stand beside Chase, grinning at him proudly, but the boy didn't smile back, staring down the river morosely as he slowly drew the lure through the rough water.

"That's only because you helped," Chase grumbled, pausing from reeling the line in just long enough to brush loose hair out of his eyes. His mouth dipped down at the corners and his dark eyes were stormy as he watched Elliot cast out with ease, the silver lure glinting in the sunlight.

Further downstream, Tom and Joe stood side-by-side, the water wrapping around the legs of their rented army green hip waders as they fished. Their conversation was muted by the roar of the river and the twittering of the birds in the surrounding trees, but the smiles on their faces were unmistakable. Feet away, a lithe trout leapt into the air mockingly, feasting on a passing butterfly.

Chase had been in an uncharacteristically foul mood all morning. It had taken almost an hour of coaxing by Olivia to get him out of the tent to go on a fishing trip he had been excited about all week. He had lagged behind the other three the entire way down to the river and moped through the fishing lesson Elliot had given him. Despite repeated attempts to get him to open up about what was bothering him, Chase remained mum, insisting that everything was fine even though it blatantly wasn't.

_Christ, he was exactly like his mother that way._

"You're being way too hard on yourself," Elliot attempted to reassure him, anxious to wipe the sadness off the young boy's face. "You told me this is the first time you've ever been fishing, but you expect to do it perfectly. Give yourself a break. You'll get it."

Chase didn't acknowledge the encouragement, his eyes fixed on the water as the lure skipped toward him, and the conversation died quickly, leaving Elliot feeling uncomfortable and wholly inadequate. The urge to comfort the obviously unhappy child was strong and Elliot grappled with it quietly while Chase scowled.

"I'll never see you again after I go back to New York, will I?"

The question came out of left field and Elliot jolted visibly, his gaze dropping to Chase who still stared out over the water even though the lure had long since returned to the tip of his fishing pole.

Elliot opened his mouth, eager to deny the boy's claim, but after a heartbeat snapped it shut again.

Would he? Would he really? Could he promise that? If he did promise that and never did, he would just be another man in the long line of men who had let Chase down. And that wasn't fair.

As Elliot struggled to come up with the gentlest possible answer to that question, Chase shook his head resignedly and sighed. "Never mind." Lips pressed into a thin white line, he took a swipe at the water with his rod, slicing through it like a knife through butter. "Fishing is stupid. I'm done."

Spinning on his heels, Chase slogged through the rushing river, his oversized hip waders making him look even skinnier and more gangly than normal. He stumbled a few times as the water nipped at his knees but managed to keep his balance, clambering over the muddy riverbank. Dropping to the ground under the shade of a towering spruce fir tree, he tossed his rod onto the grass beside him.

By the time Elliot had wound in his line and trudged through the water to sit beside him, Chase had drawn his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around them defensively. Laying his rod down carefully, Elliot reached over and placed a hand on Chase's thin shoulder. Jerking away, Chase shifted over, increasing the physical distance between them as Elliot fumbled for something meaningful to say.

Chase seemed to sense his struggle and raised his head defiantly to look Elliot straight in the eye. "It's okay. I know the answer."

"I won't lie to you Chase. I just don't know." Elliot's voice sounded pained even to his own ears. "I really want to see you again, but you're a young man now, and you're not stupid. I won't tell you that we definitely will see each other again when I just don't know. That's not fair to you."

Chase's face fell, as if on some level he had been hoping for even an empty promise, and Elliot felt like a complete ass. The young boy's dark eyes were cloudy with tears but he kept his emotions under control, picking at a piece of dirt in his fingernails.

"Mom hates me. If she didn't, she would never make me go back to New York. I hate it there."

Elliot sighed, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "Chase, it's not that simple for grown-ups. That is where your home is. Don't you want to go back to all your books and video games?"

Chase shook his head violently, scratching absently at his left ear. "I wouldn't care if I never saw them again if I could stay here. I would give anything to stay here. My friends are here. You're here."

"Chase . . ."

"Mom just wants me to be unhappy because she's miserable all the time. That's why she's making me go back." Chase's chin trembled but he held it high as he grabbed a fistful of dirt and tossed it toward the tree beside them.

"That's enough." Elliot's voice was sharp and it startled Chase, his brown eyes flying back to Elliot's face. "Your mom does not hate you. She loves you more than anything in this world. She is trying so hard to give you all the things she never had. You know what your mom came home to after school every day? A mom that ignored her and, when she got tired of ignoring her, would hit her. A mother who was gone out more than she was home. A mother who-" Elliot stopped when he noticed the stricken look on Chase's face, cursing himself for not watching his tongue. The boy was far too young for the gory details of Olivia's upbringing.

When he started speaking again, Elliot's tone was considerably softer. "I know it's hard for you to understand right now, but your mom is doing what she thinks is best for you. Even if you don't agree, you need to treat her with respect."

Swallowing hard, Chase nodded slightly and cast his eyes back down to the ground. "I just don't want to go. I have friends in Portside. People like me. People want to hang out with me. I can talk to you about stuff, guy stuff."

"And that's not going to change," Elliot insisted firmly, scooting over and wrapping an arm around Chase's shoulders. "I will always be there for you. I may not see you as much as I see you now, but you have my phone number. You can call me any time that you need to talk."

Chase nodded again, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, his posture straightening as his body relaxed. He leaned into Elliot slightly and the older man instinctively dropped a kiss on the crown of his head. "I wish you were my dad."

Elliot's heart thudded painfully as he held Chase close, his chin resting atop of the boy's head.

_I wish I was too._

"No you don't," Elliot joked, eager to lighten the bleak mood. "You wouldn't think I was nearly as cool if I were your dad."

Chase laughed lightly, his eyes drifting out to where Tom and Joe stood, still fishing obliviously. The envy on his face was palpable. "Yes I would. You're the coolest guy I know."

"Right back at ya kid," Elliot murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he stroked Chase's hair. "Right back at ya."

* * *

By the time the boys tired of fishing, a blistering summer heat had settled into the valleys of the Smoky Mountains. The sun's rays created a shimmering mirage against the paved blacktop as Elliot parked the rented van and the foursome piled out, weary from their morning of fishing in the hot sun. The air was still and the ceiling above cloudless despite the radio forecaster's insistence that heavy rain was on the way. The Cades Cove camping area was largely empty, its residents having dispersed to the wide array of activities available in the park.

Bernie caught sight of them first and waved cheerfully from her perch on a yellow plastic lounger. In one hand she held a battered paperback novel and, in the other, a portable fan that stirred her graying hair. Cyndi and Autumn bolted off the quilt they had been laying on, coloring, and flew across the expanse of soft green grass to greet the men, Autumn wrapping herself around Elliot's leg.

"Did you bring dinner Uncle Elliot?" Autumn chirped happily, smiling as she clung to him and halted his forward momentum. Both girls cheered when Joe proudly held up the four large trout that they had caught over the preceding hours, and trotted back to Bernie to share the good news.

"Did you have a good time?" Bernie asked, standing on her tiptoes to give Elliot a kiss on the cheek as he piled the rods onto the ground by his tent.

"Yeah, it was good," Elliot grunted, wiping sweat off his forehead with his forearm as he straightened. Glancing over at Chase, who had settled onto the quilt beside Autumn, he considered telling his mom about their conversation, but elected to keep quiet. Things had been stilted between them since the incident at the waterfall, and even simple conversation was awkward. "I'm gonna head into the forest and pick up some firewood. Where's Liv?"

"She went to the washroom," Bernie replied cheerfully, leaning over to pile the tackle boxes one on top of the other, her tanned shoulders glistening with perspiration. "She should be back any second."

It was when he glanced automatically in the direction of the community washrooms that Elliot caught sight of her and temporarily forgot to breathe. The bright sun gleamed off her caramel highlights and even from a distance the healthy tan on her skin was obvious, but that wasn't what had him drooling. It was the black halter bikini that left little to the imagination. The cut flattered her curves and the generous swell of her cleavage and emphasized her slender stomach. The gold frames of her tinted aviator sunglasses glinted as she threw her head back and laughed, and Elliot noticed for the first time that she was in the company of two young men, neither of whom he recognized. They wore colorful board shorts, designer sunglasses, and sandals, but no shirt, and Elliot felt a vicious stab of jealousy that angered him.

"Elliot?" Chase suddenly appeared at his elbow, his thin eyebrows furrowed quizzically. "What's wrong? You look upset."

"I'm not upset Chase," Elliot muttered, ripping his eyes away from the unpleasant scene and shoving down the obnoxious feelings that percolated in his gut. If she wanted to flirt with random strangers, fine. He didn't care.

Frowning lightly, Chase glanced in the direction that Elliot had been looking moments earlier and a small but genuine smile flickered on his lips for the first time that day.

"Were you checking out my mom?" Chase asked, grinning wider. "That's gross but cool at the same time."

"I was not 'checking out' your mom," Elliot snapped, far too defensively for his own liking. "You shouldn't talk like that. You're way too young to say things like that. " Whirling around, Elliot stalked off in the direction of the bordering forest and Chase had to trot to keep up with his long strides.

"She and Jake had a fight after the fireworks. He still calls sometimes, but he doesn't really come over anymore."

Elliot almost allowed himself a spiteful grin, slowing his pace slightly. He could bet what that fight was about. Jake had barely spoken two words to him since, and the few words he did speak were always strictly about work. When Elliot glanced over and saw Olivia still talking with the two young guys however, the urge to smile passed. "That's too bad. Jake's a good guy."

"If she's not dating Jake, you could ask her to be your girlfriend." Chase had slowed down to a walk just as Elliot's stride lengthened so the last part of his suggestion was called across the distance between them.

Elliot glanced back briefly over his shoulder and replied, his deep voice carrying on the still air. "That's never going to happen Chase. Ever."

* * *

"Need some help?"

Olivia was certain he had heard her coming. She had been noisy on purpose, crunching twigs and scuffing her sandals, to be sure she didn't scare him, but Elliot didn't look up or acknowledge her, just kept methodically picking up kindling and dumping the dry pieces of wood into the growing pile in his arms. The forest formed a rich green backdrop behind him and a chipmunk scurried off as she stopped a few feet away, a huge acorn jutting out of its mouth.

"No."

Elliot's tone was terse and Olivia was taken aback for a moment by his frosty attitude. Things had been good between them for the last four days, or at least she thought they had been. There had even been a bit of flirting happening, unless she was grossly mistaken. She had been feeling the flutter of butterflies in her stomach at least, butterflies she had assumed were long dead. Their time together on Clingman's Dome had been romantic and he had kissed her that night. Not a super passionate kiss, but not a friendly kiss either. She had thought it meant something, but just what that 'something' was, she still wasn't sure.

He had made it clear he didn't love her. So what was it then? Lust? Nostalgia? Guilt?

"Are you sure? I don't mind." Olivia hovered behind him, her arms crossed over the orange cover up she had thrown over her bathing suit. Her skin was uncomfortably sticky with sweat and suntan lotion and she longed to take a quick shower in the outside stalls behind the visitor's centre and not far from the edge of the forest where Elliot was gathering firewood.

Still avoiding her gaze, Elliot reached over to grab another piece of wood and a few sticks from the pile that he clutched in his arms slid to the ground with a soft clatter. With a violent sigh he tossed the rest of the wood down in frustration and spun to face her, his eyes fiery. "I said I've got it Olivia!"

Unfazed, Olivia arched her eyebrows and smirked lightly. "Yeah, sure looks like it."

"I'm fine. Go ahead and resume your flirting with the jailbait over there. What are they, about half your age?" Elliot tossed his head in the direction of the two young men who sat sunning themselves a football field or so away, occasionally tossing an appreciative glance in her direction.

_So that was what this was all about. Jealousy. _

_Interesting._

She had to admit, she had been flattered. The two young men had been chatting her up pretty hard earlier. Probably in their late teens, they were easy going and charming, but definitely far too young for her.

"Not half my age. More like a third," Olivia murmured cheerfully as Elliot bent over to retrieve the wood, his biceps flexing.

"Whatever."

She knew it was like poking an angry bear, but she couldn't help it. "Are you jealous?"

"No!" Elliot was gripping the wood so tightly as he glared at her that his knuckles were a ghostly shade of white and Olivia was sure he would end up with splinters in his hand. "I don't care what you do or who you do. But I would appreciate it if you could at least try to set a good example for Cyndi and Autumn, instead of flirting with two men while wearing next to nothing."

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek reflexively to stifle her laughter. He was jealous.

"You don't like my swimsuit?" Olivia asked with mock innocence, her eyes wide.

_No, he didn't like the swimsuit. He loved the swimsuit. But he would prefer she wore it someplace that only he could ogle her._

"I'm just not convinced it's appropriate for a family camping area," Elliot grumbled, ripping his eyes away again and grabbing another piece of dry wood.

"Were you staring at my ass El?" She couldn't seem to stop herself from teasing him, recognizing belatedly that she was flirting way harder with him than she had been with the two youngsters earlier.

"No!" Elliot snapped for the millionth time, juggling the woodpile precariously. Despite his best efforts, the top piece fell off. Cursing, he crouched down to pick it up but she beat him to it, placing the stick carefully on the top of the pile in his arms. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back and get the fire going to cook the fish."

A wicked idea, spawned by his merciless teasing earlier in the trip, took shape in Olivia's mind.

"I'll be right behind you. I'm just going to grab a quick shower, wash off the 'sticky'."

Stepping behind the visitor's centre, Olivia glanced around quickly to confirm they were alone. Satisfied that they were, she took a few steps closer to the outdoor shower stalls. As she walked, she grabbed the hem of her pumpkin orange cover up and drew it over her head, making a special effort to stretch as she did so, knowing the movement would draw attention to her curves.

When the cover up finally cleared her head and she could see again, Olivia was inordinately pleased to find the plan was working. Elliot had stopped walking toward the campsite and was gaping at her, his tanned face growing pale.

"What?" She stood in front of him in her bikini, one hand on her hip, eyebrows raised slightly, biting the inside of her cheek to keep a smirk from forming on her lips.

"Nothing," Elliot barked suddenly, jolting like he had just been disturbed from a deep sleep. The pile of wood in his arms wobbled but he managed to keep it together as he cleared his throat. "Just thought I saw something in the forest."

Nodding as if she believed him, Olivia turned away just slightly to give him a clear side view and took a deep breath. She wasn't much of an exhibitionist, and she was pretty sure the outdoor shower stalls were meant to be used with one's bathing suit on, but she was committed now. There was no backing down. Sweeping her hair up with one hand, she reached behind her neck and slowly undid the knot that held up the straps of her bikini. As the material drooped slightly, she heard Elliot make a strangled noise deep in his throat.

Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Olivia released the halter ties and slowly reached behind her back, unsnapping the band around her torso. The bikini top fell away and Elliot's jaw completely dropped as he got a side view of the generous swell of her full breast.

As if noticing for the first time that he was watching her, Olivia smirked lightly. "It's nothing you haven't seen before El."

Tossing her bikini top over the door of the shoulder high shower stall, Olivia stepped in and closed the swinging door behind her, leaving him gaping. Cranking the water on cold, she closed her eyes and let it course down her body as she ran her hands through her hair.

Suddenly realizing she was playing him like a piano, Elliot tore his eyes away and snapped his jaw shut so hard that his teeth banged together painfully. Straightening and raising his chin haughtily, he strode off in the direction of the campsite, heart thudding in his chest and blood rushing south.

It could have been the pile of wood that was stacked so high it blocked much of his vision.

Or, it could have been the fact that his mind was still on Olivia, back at the shower, running her hands over her body.

Whatever the reason, Elliot failed to notice the waist high wooden stake that rose out of the ground. Normally meant to keep vehicular traffic from entering that area of the park, it was thick and solid, with a dull point at the top.

And he walked directly into it. Groin first.

The pain hit him like a Mac truck, forcing the breath out of his lungs in a long whoosh. The wood fell forgotten from his arms and the only sound he could muster was a high-pitched squeak before he dropped to the ground beside it.

* * *

"How are the Stabler family jewels feelin' now?"

The distant forest was alive with the night sounds of chirping crickets and stirring owls as Tom lowered his bulky frame into the lawn chair to Elliot's left. The sun had skimmed below the horizon an hour earlier and the air smelled of thriving campfires and promised rain. The rickety chair creaked under Tom's weight and shifted on the uneven ground as he leaned over and offered a beer to his ailing brother-in-law.

Grunting his thanks, Elliot kept the blue icepack firmly in place with one hand while reaching for the proffered bottle with the other, wincing when the shift made his groin twinge painfully. "Definitely been better. Sorry I couldn't help load up the van. Even the thought of moving makes me want to cry."

Tom chuckled, his green eyes twinkling in the light of the fire as he took a swig of his beer. "I'm impressed you didn't throw up all over the place."

"It was tempting," Elliot muttered darkly, wincing again as the icepack slipped just slightly. He could not ever recall being in as much physical pain in his entire life. "Hope you weren't putting much stock in having any nieces or nephews on Julie's side. I think I'm busted."

Tom brushed that suggestion away with a wave of his hand and a grin. "You'll recover. Stablers are made of tough stuff."

The large campfire snapped merrily as the two men lapsed into momentary silence, lost in their own meandering thoughts. Across the fire, Bernie and Olivia sat on the ground with the kids, regaling them with a bedtime story that was drowned out by the roar of the flames.

"Man, this week goes by faster every year." Tom shook his head in amazement, picking at the flaking label of his beer bottle. "Can't believe we're leaving tomorrow."

"I know. It goes way too fast," Elliot grunted in agreement, taking a long gulp of his cold lager. "Wish I could get some more time off work, but it's just not good timing. All the break-ins and everything. I'm lucky I could get away for five days."

"Any calls from Jake?"

Elliot had checked his cell phone earlier that day. "No, none, so I guess there have been no new developments. It would go straight to his head, but I was kind of hoping the kid would solve the case while I was gone. That would be a nice treat to come back to."

Staring out over the fire, Elliot's eyes drifted to Olivia. She sat, cross-legged, on a blanket facing him with the four kids lounging in front of her, completely spellbound by the story. She held the hardcover book up in one hand as the other flipped the pages and showed her audience the colorful illustrations inside. Her face was aglow in the flickering light of the fire, her expression animated as she recounted the tale.

He couldn't help but smile even through the pain, and Tom caught it.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Elliot jerked his eyes away and shot Tom a hard look, grimacing when the movement jolted his groin. "What do you mean?"

Smirking, Tom tilted his head in Olivia's direction. "Come on dude. You haven't stopped staring at her all week."

"I have not been staring at her."

Beer bottle held by the neck between his fingers, Tom lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I don't blame you. She's stunning. I'm just saying."

"Why don't you ask her out then?" The snide comment was a clear indication to both of them that Tom had touched a raw nerve.

Tom kept his bass voice level and mild, sensitive to the shaky ground on which he treaded. "Even if I wasn't still grieving Julie, I wouldn't dare. I've witnessed how you treat people who ask Olivia out. You've been busting Jake's chops for months."

Elliot instantly mellowed, his guilt more a function of reminding Tom of his recent loss than of his behavior toward Jake.

"I'm sorry. That was out of line."

The apology was gruff but genuine, and Tom shrugged easily.

"Don't worry about it. I'd be a little grumpy too if I just had my junk rearranged."

Elliot chuckled and then winced, slowly removing the now warm icepack. His entire pelvis felt like one huge, throbbing bruise, but at least the sharpest of the pain had dulled to a low roar.

Tom fell silent and when Elliot glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his brother-in-law's expression was distant and sad.

"Julie was really worried about you being happy. After she was gone I mean." Elliot tried to keep his tone conversational, taking a casual sip of his beer. "You know that when you're ready, she would want you to date again, right? That she would want you to find someone to share the rest of your life with, and the kids' lives."

Tom's face was pained, his features shrouded in shadows from the fire. "We had talked about it. I know that's what she wanted. I just can't see myself with anyone but her."

Elliot nodded slowly, his heart going out to the man seated beside him. Julie's loss had devastated him; he could only imagine what it had done to her doting husband. Tom put up a good front, especially in front of the kids, but the pain clearly ran deep.

"She wanted the same for you," Tom remarked, twisting his beer bottle around in his hand absently. "She was always saying that you had sacrificed so much for your family, she was worried you would end up with nothing for yourself. You think you'll get married again someday?"

Elliot tensed, the cords of his neck straining against his skin. "No. Never. Once was enough. I learned my lesson."

"Well, wherever she is, Julie will be glad you aren't with Kathy anymore. She hated Kathy," Tom chuckled, swatting at a mosquito. "Thought she was so wrong for you."

Elliot was visibly surprised. "Really? She never said anything to me, and it wasn't like Julie to keep quiet about something like that."

"She was trying to be supportive," Tom said with a grin, tipping his beer bottle in Elliot's direction. "It was hard for her. I think she was holding out hope Olivia would come back." His eyes floated over the fire to the woman in question before returning slyly to Elliot. "And unless I've gotten really bad at reading you, she wasn't the only one. You two have been looking pretty cozy this week."

Elliot gritted his teeth, angry at himself for not doing a better job of hiding his conflicting emotions. Olivia was trouble, and he knew it, but he had let his guard down anyway. He had kissed her for God's sake, after he had just finished telling himself he would never let that happen again. She stripped him of all his logic, all his self control.

The reality was that she had destroyed him once, and had the power to do it again. Would do it again, in a month, when she moved back to New York. If he got too close, he would find himself grieving her loss once more.

He couldn't go through that. Not again.

He couldn't get involved. Not again.

Never again.

"Olivia and I are . . . complicated," Elliot muttered gruffly, dropping his eyes to the fire, letting his mind be mesmerized by the dancing flames.

"What relationship isn't? You care about her, right?"

"Of course. We were married at one point. I will always care about her."

Tom's intelligent eyes remained unwaveringly on Elliot's face. "Do you love her?"

"Like I said, it's complicated."

Leaning back in his chair, Tom drained the rest of his beer bottle with a noisy flourish. "Look man, I'm not trying to tell you your business. I just know that I would give anything, and I mean anything, in this world to spend another day with Julie. Hell, another hour with Julie" Tom's voice broke and it took him a minute to wrangle it back under control. "Life is way too short. I realize that better than anyone right now. You have the opportunity to be with the woman you love. Don't let her go."

Elliot swallowed hard, his eyes flickering over the fire. "She lives in New York. I live in Portside."

Tom shrugged his broad shoulders. "So? You go long distance for a while. If it is meant to be, it will work. When you're ready to take that step, you can move there, or she can move here."

"I can't leave Mom."

Tom shook his head firmly. "I will help out with your mom. You can't live your life around hers man, or you won't live life at all."

Elliot chuckled despite himself, watching Olivia almost wistfully. "You make it sound so easy."

"It can be," Tom insisted, rising and dropping his empty bottle into the cooler beside his chair. "You're the one complicating it. Look, you've been amazing to me and the kids these last few months, really helped us through a rough time. It's time you do something for yourself. Julie would want that."

"The trust between us, it's so . . . shaky," Elliot murmured, almost to himself. "We would need to build it up again. Start from scratch."

"So do it. Take it slow. Start by asking her out. Dinner, a movie, whatever. Get to know each other again. If it is meant to be, it will be. But if you don't let her know how you feel, she's going to leave, and this time, probably for good."

With a warm smile, Tom dropped a meaty hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder.

"I don't want to see you regret that for the rest of your life."

* * *

It was pitch black outside, the half moon hidden beneath a blanket of menacing clouds, when Olivia woke.

She had gone to bed early that night and fallen into a deep sleep almost instantly, exhausted from the fresh, mountain air and a week full of activity. She had no idea what had disturbed her blissful dreamless slumber; all she knew was one second she was drifting peacefully, and the next she was jerked wide awake, her heart pounding. She lay still for a moment, listening carefully for a sound, a clue, as to what had alarmed her sleeping self, but there were none.

Must have been her imagination.

Groaning lightly, Olivia brushed the disheveled hair out of her eyes and rolled slowly over onto her back, careful not to nudge Chase in the process. Their tent was not expansive by any means, so when she didn't feel the brush of his thin arm against hers, a sense of unease washed over her.

Reaching above her head, Olivia fumbled around for the electric lantern kept nearby to facilitate late night trips to the restrooms. Flicking it on deftly, she squinted in the sudden light.

Chase's sleeping bag was empty.

Bone chilling fear crept into Olivia's veins and her heart raced up into her throat, suffocating her. Taking a deep but shaky breath, she tried to banish the panic with logic.

Maybe he just stepped outside for a second. Maybe he had gone to the restroom.

But if he had, he would have needed to take the lantern she now clutched anxiously.

What if someone had taken him?

"Chase?" Olivia tried to keep her voice low and her tone even, not wanting to disturb the others just yet.

When her call was met with silence, she dragged the electric lantern over and fumbled with the zipper of the tent, her hands shaking. When she finally managed to unzip it and scramble out the opening, she was greeted by darkness so absolute she wouldn't have been able to see the hand in front of her face without the dim light of the lantern.

"Chase!" Olivia hissed, terror invading her voice as she took a few unsteady steps forward. She was straining her ears for a response when suddenly she crashed into something solid. The impact knocked her backward and she would have fallen had a strong hand not snaked out and grabbed her.

"Whoa, hey, it's okay." Elliot's voice was a low, steady whisper as his hand encircled her wrist and kept her steady.

"I can't find Chase," Olivia babbled, the panic in her tone palpable. "He's not in the tent. I fell asleep early, what if-"

"Hey." Elliot placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and peered into her anxious eyes through the darkness. "It's okay. He's in my tent."

The panic fizzled out quickly and Olivia felt tears of relief prick her eyes as her stored breath released itself from her lungs in one long exhale. Slumping against him, Olivia rested her head against his chest, her entire body quivering. "Thank you God. Thank you. I was freaking out."

Pulling away reluctantly after a moment, Olivia glanced down at her hands, which were still shaking with nervous adrenaline. Elliot noticed and dropped his hands from her shoulders to clasp her trembling fingers, rubbing them gently. "Try to relax. It's okay. He's safe."

Nodding, Olivia drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing the last of her anxiety to dissipate. "What's he doing in your tent?"

"He and Joe were playing cards in there, guess they both fell asleep." Elliot shrugged, releasing her hands. "He looked so peaceful. I didn't have the heart to wake him."

Olivia smiled lightly, her insides liquefying. "It's got to be pretty cramped in there between the four of you."

"It definitely would have been, so I'm sleeping under the stars tonight." Elliot motioned to a reclining lounger that sat to their right. In the lantern light, she could make out a bunched and crumpled fleece blanket sitting at the foot and a ghostly white pillow manning the top.

Olivia folded her arms across her chest, hyperaware that the cool night air was making the fact she was not wearing a bra extremely obvious. "It's way too cold to sleep out here! And it smells like it's going to rain at any second. Why don't you come and sleep in my tent? You can have Chase's sleeping bag since he stole yours."

The hungry look in Elliot's eyes made heat flash through her body. When he spoke, his tone was flat and dangerous. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm okay out here, thanks." Moving away from her, he lay back down on the lounger and drew the blanket across his torso, his gaze cast up to the darkness above.

Olivia was going to argue more persistently, but something in his expression made her pause. As he lay staring up at the heavens, Elliot seemed almost . . . sad and it dawned on her that his eyes had been red-rimmed when she crashed into him moments before.

"Hey El, everything okay?"

He was silent for a moment, his eyes trained on the expanse of starless sky above him. Then slowly, his gaze fell to her, and he sighed loudly.

"I miss her."

Shocked at the honest and direct answer, Olivia's brows furrowed. "What?"

"Julie." Elliot's voice was soft, regretful. "I miss her."

Her heart thumping heavily in her chest, Olivia walked toward him, the lantern light illuminating a vague path. His eyes had returned to the sky, but he didn't tell her to back off when she stood beside him, so she slowly lowered herself down onto the edge of the lounger, placing the lantern on the ground beside them. The mellow light cast shadows on his features, and she could barely make out the movement of his lips as he spoke.

"Julie used to love it here. Last summer she was too sick to really enjoy it, but she came anyway. Said the fresh air would do her a world of good. She didn't do much other than sleep, but she was happier than I had seen her in a long time. One night, we sat here and talked until the early hours of the morning. About her kids, about Tom, about Mom, about the future. About her hopes and dreams for everyone. She wanted us all to be happy."

Olivia tentatively rested a hand on his leg, his cotton pajama pants soft against her palm. "She loved you all, very much."

"It's not fucking fair Olivia." Elliot's voice cracked and raw emotion flooded the surface, straining the timbre of his voice. "She didn't deserve to suffer, to die. She was a good person. Never thought about herself. Always put everyone else first."

He didn't cry openly, but tears had filled Elliot's eyes and threatened to spill over onto his cheeks like a river overrunning its banks. He wiped the moisture away with the back of his hand angrily. "She was too young to die. Her kids should not have to grow up without a mother. My mother should not have had to bury her daughter. My little sister . . ." Elliot's voice trailed off and he rubbed his face roughly as if to scrub away all of the pain, all of the miserable memories.

Reaching over, Olivia grabbed Elliot's hands and drew them away from his face gently before wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He stiffened at first, but after a moment buried his face in her shoulder and allowed her to stroke his bristly hair and rub the back of his neck. His shoulders shook beneath her arms, but whether it was from actual tears or a struggle to keep his rampant emotions in check, she didn't know. And it didn't matter. She just held him tighter, rocked him slightly, and tried to provide whatever comfort he would accept.

She lost track of how long they sat there together. It must have been awhile, but all time was absorbed by the black abyss that surrounded them. When he finally did pull back, his eyes were red and darkly circled, emotional exhaustion weighing down his features. He looked ten years older than she knew him to be, and she could tell he was still struggling to process everything he was feeling.

Reaching out, Olivia cupped his face and breathed the words that set him free. "She knows that you loved her El. Don't doubt that for a second."

She had no sooner said the words then the heavens opened up and rain poured down. Big, thick, wet drops crashed down from the inky clouds in a torrent that had them both soaked before they could even scramble off the lounger. Slipping on the inundated grass, they stumbled toward her tent, clothing pasted to their bodies and hair clinging like silly string to their faces.

Only once they were both safely ensconced inside the green canvas shelter did they erupt into peals of laughter.

* * *

When the laughter died down, a pregnant silence prevailed.

The plump raindrops pelted the fabric canvas that sheltered them, generating a consistent low level rumble that filled the void of conversation. The electric lantern struggled against the suffocating darkness, its weak light illuminating forms and shapes, but leaving specific details undisclosed. A soft wind ruffled the tent flaps, changing the direction of the rain for only a moment before fading away.

They lay on their sides on the sleeping bags, facing each other, a foot or two apart. Elliot had his head propped up on one of his hands and Olivia gazed up at him, her head nestled into the white pillow, her hand resting loosely beside it. Their sodden clothing clung to their bodies, molded to their forms, and Elliot's eyes travelled down the length of her, taking it all in. Droplets of leftover moisture trickled down from his short hair and traversed the contours of his neck to his broad chest.

She didn't make a conscious decision to touch him; it was a sudden urge brought on by an overwhelming burst of tenderness in her heart. Before she had really considered the consequences of the action, she had reached across the distance between them and touched his face gently. The pads of her fingers brushed over his cheeks, tracing the soft skin before travelling down to the rough stubble of his chin. The lantern light flickered over the curve of his nose and the softness of his lips, and she outlined them in reverence. Many silent minutes passed as she explored the hills and valleys of his face as if for the first time, memorizing each curve, each line, each wrinkle.

Olivia didn't see him move as much as heard him. The silky fabric of the sleeping bag rustled against his saturated clothing as he leaned over and kissed her. Tentatively at first, then more confidently. Elliot's mouth was warm, sweet, and smooth and she would have been perfectly content to drown in it. There was no guilt, no remorse as she surrendered to the sensations, her fingertips still pressing lightly against the skin of his neck. Rolling suggestively onto her back, she drew him with her, their mouths still locked in a sensual dance.

Propping himself up over her, Elliot deepened the kiss, his tongue dipping between her lips, tasting her. Sometimes he would press his mouth down hard on hers, and then at others he would retreat, forcing her to crane her neck up to maintain the kiss. Heat raged through her body and, every time he pulled back even just slightly, Olivia pursued him harder, kissing him with more fervor than she had ever kissed in her life.

Elliot took a gamble, moving one hand to touch her breast lightly through the damp fabric of her camisole, and was rewarded with a soft moan. Braver now, he slid his hand up further to cup the smooth swell of flesh, his control wavering when she whimpered against his mouth, responding enthusiastically to his skilled caress. Arousal raging, Elliot shifted his weight over her and used his leg to gently spread hers to make room for him. Olivia could feel him, hard as granite against her, and her entire body throbbed in anticipation.

His hand left her breast just long enough to smoothly coax the damp silk of her camisole upward, and Olivia shivered as the fabric tickled her skin. Seconds later, his mouth found her bare breast, kissing, sucking gently, and she had to bite her bottom lip hard to keep from crying out, worried that even the heavy rain wouldn't drown out that sound.

Olivia almost groaned in disappointment when his mouth abandoned her breast, but the subsequent sensation of his lips travelling over her clavicle and coasting up her neck distracted her.

"God, I've wanted to touch you like this since you taunted me this afternoon." Elliot's voice was hoarse, his breath hot against her ear. "If you don't want this to go any further, you'd better stop it now."

"I don't want to stop," Olivia whispered, her slender hands sliding up into his cropped hair. "I want you."

Elliot required no further encouragement. In a heartbeat, he had used one strong hand to pull off her soaked camisole and toss it aside before lowering his mouth back to hers. His hand caressed the tip of her bare breast and Olivia whimpered and whispered his name roughly, her body arching into his touch. When he felt her hands slipping under his T-shirt to touch his toned stomach, he stopped kissing her just long enough to yank the sodden material over his head and launch it carelessly into the murky darkness. Her hands glided greedily over his muscled chest, reveling in the strength, before following the trail of fine hair that meandered down to the waistband of his sweatpants. When she hooked her index finger in the elastic, he groaned deep in the back of his throat.

Pulling back just slightly, Elliot dropped his hands to the waist of her pajama pants, gripping the bunched fabric roughly with slightly trembling hands.

"I don't have any protection. I didn't . . . the last thing I expected to be doing on this camping trip was making love to you." Even as he said it, his thick hands were drawing her pajama pants and panties down over her hips and thighs.

How she answered didn't seem to matter, but she answered all the same. "It's okay. I can't get pregnant. And I'm clean if you are."

"I am," Elliot grunted, pulling her pants and panties over her feet before helping her slip off his own pants and boxers, kicking them aside. His hands dropped to her smooth legs, and he ran his fingers up their length, caressing every inch, her breath becoming ragged the closer he drew to her core. His eyes drifted lazily over her body, absorbing the curves and dips, marveling at the beautiful imperfections. On her right side, near her hip, a jagged white scar stood out like a neon sign against her tanned skin. Aware that it was a startling reminder of her mother's cruelty that night twelve years ago, he dipped his mouth to kiss it.

Grasping his hips, Olivia whispered a sensual invitation for him to enter her. The blood thumped heavily in his ears but Elliot gently refused, leaving her groaning lightly in frustration.

"Not so fast," he murmured pleadingly, shifting over to one side and laying down beside her to stifle the temptation that came with resting between her legs. His warm mouth found her neck, relishing the sensitive skin there. "If I go inside you right now, I won't last long enough to satisfy you."

He touched her intimately then, and Olivia couldn't stifle the small cry of pleasure that escaped her lips.

"That feel good?" Elliot asked hoarsely, his talented fingers teasing, his eyes locked on her face.

Olivia didn't answer but she didn't need to; he could tell from the rhythmic motion of her hips against his hand that it did. He kissed her sweetly as his hand explored, fascinated by the quiet, sensual noises she made. She was silky smooth and his fingers slid around effortlessly, relearning her pleasure points. She was far more uninhibited, far more responsive than twelve years ago, and Elliot shoved aside the knowledge that her present sexual prowess was the result of experience with other men, focusing instead on the movement of her body beneath his hand and the soft cries that escaped her lips.

When he sensed she was close, Elliot removed his hand and moved back over her again, his body quaking with need. Supporting his weight on one hand, he guided himself to her opening, and her hands fell to his strong arms, nails cutting into his skin. When he first entered her Olivia tensed, and he stopped immediately, his erection throbbing painfully.

"Does that hurt?" Elliot asked gently, feathering kisses over her eyelids and nose. "We don't have to-"

"Oh yes we do," Olivia insisted quickly, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. "If you're okay, I'm okay. It's just been awhile. Kiss me."

He did, and it helped. She relaxed beneath him almost instantly and he slid in the rest of the way, deep, so deep inside her that it stunned them both. She was so hot, wet, and tight around him that the simple act of entering her almost ended it for him. Stilling, Elliot recited baseball stats internally until he felt confident he could move without completely embarrassing himself.

Supporting his weight on his elbows, he thrust in and out slowly, his face falling to her neck as his focus shifted to the sensations raging throughout his body. Olivia's eyes glittered in the lantern light for only a moment before closing, her mouth parting to emit a series of soft groans. He felt incredible, so hard inside her, that she just couldn't get enough. Above her, his entire body smoldered, his nerve endings tingling, driving him toward fulfillment. He wouldn't last much longer, but he was determined to hang on until she climaxed.

"Talk to me, tell me what you need," Elliot rasped hoarsely, shifting his weight with each thrust, trying to find her sweet spot.

She did talk to him, and he gave her the shallow, hard strokes she requested, followed by a longer, gentler thrust that brought her hips straight up off the sleeping bag in need.

"God El," Olivia gasped, her toes curling as her orgasm approached, endorphins flooding her body, sweat dripping down her neck. Her entire body was rigid, striving for the release that lingered so close. "Yes, yes, right there. Please!"

Burying his face into her shoulder with a groan, Elliot concentrated his attention on hitting that wonderful spot that made her back arch and suddenly she trembled, convulsed, and then cried out, muffling the sound with her hand as her head thrashed on the pillow.

"Yes," he gasped gutturally, her climax triggering his. Pinpricks of color flashed in front of his eyes as he grabbed her hips roughly, thrust deep, and held himself there, spilling inside her.

The patter of the rain on the roof of the tent and the tickle of the wind in the trees faded into the background as his body shook and throbbed for a delicious eternity.

* * *

"Well, at least you know it still works."

When the world sharpened again, they lay together, tucked into the comforting warmth of a large sleeping bag. Olivia's voice was sleepy, her mind floating listlessly in a sweet never-never land, her head resting on Elliot's chest, rising and falling slowly with his deep breaths. Her hand gently stroked the fine hair on his stomach, his sticky skin warm against her face. Elliot lay on his back with his arm draped around her, lightly tracing the smooth curve of her side. When he chuckled at her lazy joke, the sound rumbled in his chest against her ear.

"Yep, still works. Hell, feels even better than it did yesterday."

Olivia smiled, laying a light kiss on his chest. "I was worried it would be painful for you after this afternoon."

"Not at all. It was incredible," Elliot murmured, reaching up to stroke her hair.

"Mmmm, beyond incredible," Olivia agreed sluggishly, his even breaths and warm body beginning to lull her into a light sleep. She knew they should talk, should get things out in the open, should discuss where they went from here. Should discuss Chase. But it would ruin the moment, and in that second she couldn't muster a speck of desire to do that. Instead, she burrowed closer to him. "I might fall asleep on you."

"That's okay. Rest." Elliot's hand drifted down to caress the scar on her side absently, feeling possessive and protective. Reaching up behind his head with his free hand, he flicked off the lantern and settled back down into the sleeping bag, burying his nose in her hair.

Olivia had almost drifted off when Elliot chuckled again, the movement jostling her just slightly.

"Mmmmm, what's so funny?" Olivia mumbled drowsily, her arm tightening around him as she nuzzled into the soft skin of his chest.

"Nothing. I've learned my lesson, that's all. Never say never."

* * *

_A/N – Thanks to all those who continue to read. Next chapter will contain the moment many of you have been waiting for, when Elliot will finally learn the truth about Chase._

_There will be blood . . . _


	17. Cold

_A/N – As usual, thanks to Sitarra for her unwavering support. And also to Rachel (MrsRoy) and Mils for the beautiful "Atonement" banners! I love them!_

**Chapter 16 –Cold**

When she woke the next morning, he was gone.

She knew immediately, without even opening her eyes, because she was shivering, and she never felt cold when he was beside her.

She woke slowly, her senses reactivating one-by-one. A steady rain still pattered against the canvas roof of the tent and, in the distance, thunder grumbled unhappily. A dim light pierced the fabric above her and painted the interior of the tent with a somber forest green glow. Feet away outside, a campfire crackled and snapped loudly, snarling at the falling rain that attempted to douse it. A low murmur of voices filtered in through the thin material and Olivia wondered vaguely if she was the only one still resting on that gloomy, overcast day.

Curling up and pulling the sleeping bag tighter around her, Olivia tried to shake the chill that had hijacked her body. A dark sense of foreboding had laced her every waking moment so far, but she felt powerless to pinpoint the source. She should have felt ecstatic after spending a passionate night in the arms of the man she loved, but all she could muster to feel was an uneasy sense of approaching a fork in the road with no idea which path to take.

His absence from the tent was unsurprising but still disappointing. He had woken her before dawn to make love to her again, this time slowly, more languorously. He had taken her to peaks with both his mouth and his patient thrusts that she had never experienced before. The pleasant burning ache and sticky remnants between her legs were a testament to that. For the first time in her life she had felt inadequate in bed, completely out of her league, in comparison to his attentive intensity. He had coaxed her out of her comfort zone several times with sensual requests and erotic caresses, and she prayed she had given him even half the pleasure he had given her. Now, in the light of day, she doubted that and herself.

Afterward, Elliot had fallen asleep almost instantly, cradling her tight to his body, his even breath in her ear, but she had lay awake, thinking, wondering.

What was he thinking, feeling?

Did it mean anything to him, or was it just sex? Just a little vacation indiscretion that he had already swept under the rug.

Was he embarrassed? Remorseful?

Disappointed?

Had he slipped out of the tent before she woke to finish packing or because he didn't want anyone to know he had spent the night with her?

What kind of reception awaited her outside the tent right now? Warm or cold?

So many questions, so few answers.

Rolling over and trying to silence her churning mind, Olivia drew the top flap of the sleeping bag over her head and burrowed deeper. She was cold, so very cold. She knew she should get up, get moving, finish packing the rest of her things. That would warm her and Elliot was probably getting antsy to get on the road back to Portside, but abandoning her cozy, protective cocoon would only expose her to a reality she wasn't sure she wanted, or was able, to face.

She must have dozed off again, because the sharp sound of the tent zipper lowering jolted her awake. Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, Olivia prepared to play possum, desiring time to gather her own thoughts and emerge from her muddled drowsiness before actually interacting with anyone. She heard someone slipping into the tent and felt the ground vibrate as that person crawled over beside her.

Gently, a hand brushed the hair away from her face, and Olivia knew immediately that the familiar touch belonged to Elliot.

"Go away. It's too early," Olivia murmured, smiling as she turned her face to kiss his hand, her eyes still tightly closed. When he chuckled, the deep sound made her smile widen.

"It's almost ten in the morning." Elliot sat down beside her, his hand resting on her hip through the silky fabric of the sleeping bag. "Time to get up lazy bones."

"Ten o'clock!" Olivia shot up into a seated position, rubbing her eyes roughly. "Why didn't you wake me sooner? I know you wanted to get going early."

Elliot shrugged, brushing the loose hair out of her face, his fingers and expressive eyes lingering on the line of her jaw. "You were sleeping so deeply. Seemed cruel to wake you. You must have needed it."

They stared at each other for a moment, feeling oddly awkward despite the intimacy they had shared the night before. Olivia's heart pounded in her chest and she could feel the butterflies congregating in her stomach, and she chastised herself for behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush. She had been married to the man, and he still made her knees weak.

"Where is everyone?" Olivia's voice came out raspy and she quickly cleared her throat, embarrassed, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

"They've gone down to the waterfall one last time before we take off. I told Tom if Mom jumps in to just leave her there."

Olivia laughed merrily at his attempt to lighten the stilted atmosphere in the tent, and Elliot broke into a toothy grin at the sound.

"It's about time."

Olivia furrowed her brow questioningly, but didn't stop smiling. "What's about time?"

"That my wish came true." Elliot's gaze was soft but intent. "That night when we saw the first star, and made a wish? I wished that I would get to hear you laugh again. It's been so long since I have heard you laugh, really laugh. I miss the sound."

Olivia melted, and before she knew what she was doing, before she had asked him what their boundaries were, or where they stood, she was kissing him, and he was responding to her with open-mouthed passionate kisses of his own. The world went blurry and suddenly she wasn't cold anymore. Somehow, she wasn't sure how, they ended up back on the sleeping bag, her hands under his sweatshirt caressing his spine while his slipped under the waistband of her pajama pants and gripped her hips.

_God, the man was insatiable._

Olivia could hardly bear to pull his mouth from hers, but somehow she managed, aware that the tent flap was still wide open and any passerby would be getting quite a show. "El, we shouldn't . . ."

"Why not?" Elliot's mouth dipped down and his hand tugged the neck of her camisole lower until he could nibble at the valley between her breasts. "I'll close the tent. They just left for the waterfall. It'll take them a while to get down there and then back. If we're quick . . ."

_Highly likely, but still . . ._

"El . . ." Reluctantly, Olivia removed her hands from his back and cupped his face. Equally reluctantly, he pulled his mouth away from the curve of her breast and rolled off her with a light groan.

"Okay, okay." Elliot's frustration was obvious both in his tense face and lower, as he strained against the denim of his dark jeans.

Pulling herself into a sitting position again, Olivia dropped a hand to his knee and squeezed it affectionately. "I'm sorry El. I'm not good at commitment-free sex. I've only been with three men. You and my two other husbands." Realizing suddenly how that sounded, Olivia chuckled wryly. "Wow, how sad is that? Thirty years old and I've had three husbands. Thrice divorced. Yikes. You know it, but sometimes you don't understand how bad it sounds until you vocalize it."

"You just haven't found the right guy yet." Elliot's voice was tight, gruff, and Olivia felt her heart clench, knowing he was including himself in that statement.

"Maybe I did. Maybe I just did something stupid and lost him." Olivia's dark eyes were almost liquid as she stared at him intently. Elliot glanced at her only briefly before dropping his eyes to her hand where it rested on his knee, his gaze focused on her ring finger, where her wedding band should have been.

"So where do we go from here?"

Olivia's voice was barely a whisper as she asked a question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to. Her entire body ached with nervous anticipation when he remained quiet, still staring down at her hand as if deeply lost in thought. Dreading the pregnant silence, she spoke up again. "We have a couple choices. We can pretend like last night never happened. Chalk it up to two lonely people satisfying basic human needs, and nothing more. Or, we can embrace it, see where it leads us. Keep it casual at first, start from scratch. Figure out if there is still anything there. Nothing too serious, we can both see other pe-"

"No."

The refusal was sharp and abrupt and Olivia's heart plummeted, crash landing in her stomach. Turning red, she averted her eyes, embarrassed for thinking he would consider that option for more than a second. He had made it clear there was nothing left in his heart for her, and yet still, for some obscure reason, hope had persevered.

When she suddenly fell silent, Elliot looked up and knew immediately that she had misunderstood his meaning. Reaching over to where her hand rested on his knee, he laced his thick fingers between her slender ones and squeezed lightly. When she glanced up in surprise at the contact, he gave her a small smile.

"I don't want you seeing other people."

That small spark of hope re-ignited in her chest and Olivia felt the accompanying warmth spread through the rest of her body like wildfire, prodding her tentative heart.

"I don't really want you seeing other people either. I just don't want to ask you for a huge commitment, not so quickly."

Sighing, Elliot played with her fingers lightly, his thumb caressing the soft skin of the back of her hand as he avoided her gaze. "What if I want to commit?"

Tears flooded her eyes but Olivia blinked them back, not wanting to ruin what was turning out to be a wonderful moment with too much overwhelming emotion.

"It won't be easy El. We're different people than we were twelve years ago. We can't even be sure we're compatible anymore, if we ever were. The only thing we know for sure at this point is that the sex is amazing."

The corner of Elliot's mouth curved up into a cocky half grin and Olivia couldn't help but roll her eyes and smile in response, smacking him lightly on the arm. "And that's wonderful, but the kind of relationship I'm looking for is more than just incredible sex."

Elliot grew serious again, rubbing his fingertips gently over the base of her ring finger almost absently. "I want more than that too. It definitely won't be easy though. There's a lot of history behind us, not all of it good. A lot of anger and hurt. There's a chance we won't ever be able to get past that. To truly forgive and move on."

Olivia nodded, watching his fingers as they played lightly over her hand. "I know. But I want to try. I would always wonder if we didn't."

Elliot smiled, using his free hand under her chin to draw her face up to look at him. "You live in New York. I live in Portside. We will be almost eleven hours apart. The distance is going to be a challenge. I know it will be for me. I already want to see you all the time. I can't imagine how it will be when you're back home."

Olivia melted further, holding his eyes with hers. "It will be hard for me too. But the distance seems shorter by plane. We will just have to plan, that's all. Set aside time for each other. And get a good long distance phone package."

Elliot smiled, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. "So we're really going to try this?"

Olivia's face was serious as she drew his hand up to her mouth for a kiss before releasing it. "I would regret it for the rest of my life if we didn't."

Leaving his knuckles resting gently against her cheek, Elliot reached over and kissed her sweetly at first, and then with more passion.

When they pulled apart, both were flushed and breathless.

"So would I Olivia. So would I."

* * *

The car ride home was quiet.

By the time Tom, Bernie, and the kids arrived back at the campsite, Elliot and Olivia had finished packing up and loaded the van, and the group bid a sad adieu to the looming, mist-covered Smoky Mountains.

Weary from the week of steady activity, the van's passengers lapsed into silence as the carpet of spruce fir trees faded in the rearview mirror and the rocky peaks grew smaller and smaller. The day was dreary, morose, and a steady drizzle coated the air like a thin gray curtain, wetting the windshield and obscuring the view. Heavy clouds created a thick, impenetrable paste in the sky as Olivia sat with her head resting against the cool window, watching a fat raindrop streak down the glass.

Beside her, engrossed in his book, Chase frowned absently, gnawing on his lower lip. As she watched him, Olivia felt the vague sense of unease that had plagued her earlier return.

There was something stirring in the air . . . something malicious.

Giving her head a mental shake, Olivia closed her eyes and focused on the sound of the wet pavement rolling under the van's tires. She was just being silly, afraid that some unidentified evil was lurking over the horizon to ruin her good mood. She and Elliot had arrived at the fork in the road earlier that morning, and decided together which path to take. She was beyond happy with the road they had chosen, so there was nothing to fear.

Or was there?

The rain followed them all the way to Portside, the dense cloud cover never abating for an instant. Over the ocean, the sky was even more threatening, a black mass that encroached on the shore, highlighted occasionally by an intense flash of lightening that left spots dancing in front of Olivia's eyes. The streets were deserted as Elliot cruised toward the Stabler homestead, the town's savvy residents having bunked down for the impending storm.

The Stabler's dirt driveway was a river of mud, suggesting the skies had opened up on Portside at least once already. The kids giggled as Elliot intentionally accelerated hard, the back of the van fishtailing in the sludge. Beside him, Bernie shot him a warning look as Tom and Olivia smiled.

The group piled out as Elliot parked by the wraparound front porch, the kids chattering happily again as the adults stretched and worked out kinked muscles. Tom opened the back of the van and everyone grabbed an armful of duffel bags and coolers, sleeping bags and pillows. As the adults organized and unloaded, the kids skipped up to the porch, glad to be returned to their toys and video games.

Bernie had been uncharacteristically silent and glum for the entire trip back to Portside, and Elliot's worry for her was obvious as they stood side-by-side, unloading the tents. Olivia caught him watching her as she puttered, the lines of his forehead stark against his tanned skin.

Clearing her throat, Olivia tried to ease the awkwardness and brighten the mood as thunder rumbled, growing louder and closer over the water. "Thank you so much for inviting Chase and I on this trip. It was wonderful. We both had a really good time."

"You're welcome dear." The words were friendly but Bernie's tone was flat and the expression on her face didn't change. "We're just going to order some pizza for dinner. Why don't you stay?"

Olivia glanced at Elliot, who was still watching his mother thoughtfully, his light eyes concerned. "Uh, I don't want to impose any more than we already have . . ."

"Oh, don't be silly," Bernie snapped, grabbing a duffel bag off the ground and hoisting it onto her shoulder. "Stop being so damn polite Olivia. It's no imposition. Just stay."

Surprised at the sharp retort, Olivia glanced again at Elliot. "Okay then. Sure. That'd be nice."

"Fine. I'm going to go dump this bag and let the kids into the house. I'll be back to get more stuff."

Bernie stalked off toward the large Victorian while Tom gathered up the tents and disappeared into the detached garage, leaving Elliot and Olivia standing awkwardly by the van.

As Bernie traipsed toward the house, Elliot smiled lightly at Olivia in apology.

"Sorry about that. She's in a mood." The weak smile faded as he shrugged. "You know how she gets sometimes."

"Yeah, I remember." Olivia looked at Elliot carefully, her feet squishing in the slippery mud. "Are you okay?"

Elliot nodded slowly, pulling his jacket tighter as the wind picked up and blew a salty mixture of rain and ocean spray in their direction. "I'm worried about Mom, but good. Really good actually." Reaching out, he grabbed Olivia's hips and drew her to him, kissing her softly until she was breathless.

"El!" Olivia admonished lightly, running her hands over the damp material of his rain jacket. "I thought we weren't advertising this yet."

"We're not advertising, but we're not hiding either. No one's around."

Olivia smiled and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, kissing the skin there softly. "Well, if we aren't hiding, I have a request. How about you and I blow off dinner here, go back to my place, order takeout, and fool around?"

That suggestion yielded the hearty laugh from Elliot she had been aiming for.

"'Fool around' Olivia? We really are going back to high school here, aren't we?"

Olivia grinned playfully. "Yeah, but it made you smile, and that's what I was going for."

"Will I make it to third base?"

It was Olivia's turn to chortle. "I'd say the odds are good you're going to hit a home run, but you'll just have to wait and see."

Still smiling, Elliot stepped back and grabbed a duffel bag, slinging it over his broad shoulder. "Sounds good to me. I've been itching to finish what we started on the kitchen table. I'll go break the news to Mom. She can think what she wants. Tom can keep an eye on her and the kids tonight."

As Olivia bent to grab her own duffel, she reflected wryly that he wouldn't be nearly as happy when he learned the real reason she wanted to get him alone. In fact, he might never speak to her again. But regardless, the deception ended today.

"How about Chinese? I've been craving-"

Olivia was interrupted by the sound of Tom yelling. Heads snapping around, they caught sight of him dashing out onto the expansive porch, his windbreaker flapping in the breeze, a look of shock on his handsome features.

"Elliot! You need to get in here now!" His words were ripped away by the wind and whipped around feverishly, but the alarm that laced them was unmistakable.

Dropping his duffel bag into the mud, Elliot took off at a run toward the front porch, with Olivia right on his heels, skidding in the mud. He leapt up onto the porch, completely bypassing the stairs, and flew through the screen door where Tom had disappeared seconds earlier. A few feet back, Olivia tore in behind him, coming to a sudden dead stop when she crashed into Elliot's broad back. She would have fallen to the carpeted hall floor if she hadn't grabbed his arm to keep herself upright.

When her head cleared of the impact and the blurriness faded from her vision, Olivia was finally able to absorb the ugly scene that lay before them.

The Stabler home was completely, utterly, and totally trashed.

"Oh my God."

The exclamation was a stifled whisper as Olivia's hand flew to her mouth reflexively, her eyes darting around the room, her heart pressing painfully against the restraint of her chest. Around her, the others were equally stunned, standing in a dazed huddle as they twisted this way and that to take in all of the gory details.

The white-washed entrance of the Stabler home led into a small foyer that, in turn, opened onto a spacious living area furnished with an eclectic mix of antique furniture. The living room had always been cluttered, filled with an assortment of knick knacks that Bernie had collected over the years, but now it was a complete mess. Framed pictures that had once hung straight on the wall now sat either askew or completely displaced, the reflective glass shattered and spider webbed. The armchair had been overturned and rested on its side, wooden legs flailing impotently. The large plasma TV was missing from its usual perch in the oak entertainment unit and Joe's video game systems were similarly absent. Stuffing from the couch cushions was thrown about the room sporadically like errant snow, and someone had taken a rake to the paint on the walls, leaving deep gouges in its wake.

All three drawers of the computer desk had been ripped out and the computer monitor smashed, its face now a gaping, sightless hole. The contents of the desk had been launched all around the room, the papers ripped and crumpled and molested. All of Bernie's knick knacks had been tossed about and were now bent and broken. The beige carpet was stained with leftover blue paint from the garage.

It looked like a bomb had gone off.

As the adults slowly fanned out through the house, instructing the children to wait in the devastated living area, they found more of the same in the other rooms. The sheets had been ripped off all of the beds and the innards surgically extricated from the pillows. Picture frames were defaced and the heads had been ripped off some of the stuffed animals that decorated Autumn's room. Clothing had been tossed out of drawers and mirrors shattered. Tables were overturned and walls were vandalized with garish spray paint. In the kitchen, the refrigerator had been completely emptied. Spoiled food coated the floor, the decay breeding a horrific smell that would take weeks to leech out of the ceramic. Two of the kitchen chairs had been smashed, wooden pieces littering the floor by the slightly ajar sliding door. Rain had seeped in the crack, soaking the mat.

The disturbing scene made Olivia's entire body tremble with emotion. Her mother's house had been ransacked; the Stabler home had been destroyed, decimated. It was beyond a break-in, even though there were obviously things missing. The perpetrator had intentionally annihilated the building and, by default, the family that resided within its walls.

Olivia was speechless by the time she had completed a full circle, ending in Bernie's room. The older woman sat on her bed, clutching an ornate black box, its lid dangling by a hinge. Tears streaked Bernie's face but she didn't sob as she stared blankly through the moisture at the empty box.

Slowly, Olivia lowered herself down onto the naked mattress, the springs squeaking under her weight, and wrapped a comforting arm around Bernie's shoulders.

"It's gone. All of my mother's jewelry." Bernie's voice was as lifeless as her eyes. "My grandmother's Cameo pin. It's all gone."

Olivia remembered the pin, had seen Bernie wear it when she dressed up for fancy functions. It was a beautiful antique brooch with smooth, rich colors and an elaborate border. Bernie had always worn it with pride.

"I'm so sorry Bernie," Olivia murmured, hugging the other woman tight against her side, her hands shaking. "So sorry." Despite her training, Olivia found herself at a complete loss for meaningful words as she stared impotently around the tossed room.

"Our rings are gone too." Elliot's deep voice resonated from the doorway and they both looked up at him, startled. He stood in the frame, holding a small velvet box in his outstretched hand, his eyes on Olivia. "Our wedding rings. I kept them. Couldn't get rid of them, no matter how much it hurt to see them after you left. I put them in this box, hid them in my bedside table. Bastard took them too."

Bernie started to sob more openly and Olivia pulled the older woman against her, rocking her gently, her eyes locked on Elliot. He, in turn, stared at his mother, his face stony, void of all emotion. With a disgusted flip of his wrist, he tossed the box into one of the messy clothes heaps spread haphazardly around Bernie's room.

"We need to get back downstairs to the kids." Elliot's voice was flat as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I'm going to go call Jake and get him over here to process the scene."

Glancing around the demolished room one final time, Elliot shook his head slowly before heading toward the stairs.

"Pull yourself together Mother. I know it will be near impossible, but do it anyway. Your grandchildren need you."

* * *

They ordered pizza, but no one touched it.

It took Olivia close to ten minutes to clear off the couch and locate enough intact chairs for everyone to sit. The living room was silent as the shock settled deeper into their systems, each individual lost in their own thoughts as they stared around the space vacantly. Adults and children were equally adrift, trying in vain to process and comprehend the atrocity before them.

It was like waking from a nightmare.

Olivia sat beside Bernie on the couch with Autumn cradled in her arms. The little girl sobbed, bereft over the fate of her favorite teddy bear, which had lost its head in the vicious attack. Stroking her pale blonde hair, Olivia rocked her gently and murmured soothing words, but the little girl was beyond solace, and it broke Olivia's heart when she cried out for her mother.

Beside them, Bernie stared at Autumn listlessly as if the little girl were a fascinating alien life form, her hands twisting absently. Across the room, Tom had pulled Cyndi into his lap on a kitchen chair while Joe and Chase sat on the floor to either side of him, trying valiantly to maintain a stoic front in the face of so much fear and emotion.

"Christ Elliot, this is horrible."

Jake's stunned voice resonated from the top of the stairs, and seconds later the steps creaked as the two men descended, Jake shaking his head in disbelief. "This was personal man. It might be the same guy, but he was gunning for you specifically. He had to be. There was never this much gratuitous damage done to any of the other places."

"I know," Elliot sighed loudly, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. "What do you want to bet we don't find a single print anywhere in all of this mess?"

Jake put his hands on his hips and sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he surveyed the damage another time. "If it's the same guy, odds are good. He's careful. He would have worn gloves."

"This really isn't the most appropriate place for this conversation guys," Olivia snapped, motioning to the children, who stared at the sheriff and his deputy with wide eyes. "Tom, why don't you take the kids upstairs and play a game? I think I saw some on the shelf of Cyndi's closet."

_That weren't thrown all over the place._

Tom nodded at the suggestion and gathered up the kids with a few soft words. Olivia kissed Autumn's forehead and stroked her light hair once more before releasing her to her father's care, her tiny face still tear-stained and puffy.

Once they had disappeared, Olivia slid over to drape her arm around Bernie's shoulder and glanced up at the two men.

"They can't stay here tonight El. We can't pick anything up or put any of the beds back together until the rooms get processed, and none of them will feel safe. Why don't you all come back to my mother's place tonight? There's plenty of space. I can make up all the spare beds."

_And you can sleep in mine, so I'll feel safe. _

Elliot nodded slowly, sighing. She could see the rage, bubbling just under the surface, that he was struggling valiantly to keep under control. "Thanks Liv. That's a good idea."

His face soft, Jake crossed the room and crouched in front of the two women, his eyes locked on Olivia.

"Are you okay? You look pale."

She had just opened her mouth to respond when he moved to put his hands on her knees comfortingly.

"Don't touch her," Elliot snapped, his eyes fiery as he took a few steps toward his startled deputy. Jake immediately backed off, withdrawing his hands and standing up, the threat to his health heeded. Elliot glared at him and Jake shifted uncomfortably as the room slid into an awkward silence.

"Well, guess I'll head out. I've done all I can here. Got lots of pictures." Jake held up the camera as if it were an olive branch. "I'll see you tomorrow when the crime scene unit gets here Sherriff. I'm sorry for all this ma'am."

Shuffling backward, Jake tipped his hat at Bernie and Olivia before smiling tight-lipped at Elliot and disappearing through the front door.

"He was just trying to help El," Olivia rebuked softly, rubbing Bernie's back absentmindedly.

"I know exactly what he was trying to do," Elliot snarled, pacing back and forth, stepping carefully to avoid grinding tiny pieces of glass into a fine paste in the carpet. "Don't be naïve Olivia."

Olivia let the subject of Jake drop, feeling the anger emanating from Elliot's soul. It was not a good time to pick a fight. His rage was reaching a fever pitch and, if she prodded, there was a good chance he would explode.

Instead, Olivia turned her attention to Bernie, who was gazing blankly at the carpet in a stupor.

"You should have something to eat Bernie," Olivia suggested gently, rubbing the older woman's neck carefully. She could feel the tense knots bunching against the skin of Bernie's upper back and shoulders. "You haven't eaten much all day."

"I'm not hungry." Bernie's voice was childlike, and Elliot scoffed loudly as he paced, ignoring the hard look Olivia shot in his direction.

"Still, you should eat. It might make you feel a bit better." Olivia hugged the older woman impulsively. "You'll get through this Bernie. Just another bump in the road."

Bernie looked up at her then, her face anguished. "My road is always bumpy Olivia. I lost my husband. I lost my daughter. And my son," Bernie glared at Elliot unkindly, "would have me so drugged up that I don't know whether I am coming or going."

Elliot halted his pacing, face darkening dangerously as his eyes narrowed. "How dare you? Everything that I've ever done has been in the best interests of you and this family. Can _you_ honestly say that?"

"That's right Elliot, pull that 'holier than thou' routine. But this is all your fault." Bernie motioned wildly to the devastated room. "It's because of your job that this happened. It's because you didn't catch this guy a long time ago. What would have happened if we had been home? You would have been at work, because that's the only place you ever are. What would have happened to me and the children?"

His face growing redder by the second, Elliot advanced toward the couch, and Olivia rose to cut him off, placing a hand firmly on his chest. He stopped but didn't look at her, his blazing eyes trained on his mother, who sat staring up at him defiantly.

Elliot's voice was low and ice cold when he spoke next. "Well, the children would have been in trouble, because you would have protected them about as well as you protected me and Julie growing up, which was not at all. But you would have been fine. You were always good at looking out for yourself."

Olivia shifted uncomfortably, feeling like a deer trapped in the headlights between mother and son. "Come on El, let's not do this right now. You're both upset."

"Oh shut up Olivia," Bernie snapped, rising to her feet and crossing her arms over her chest. "This isn't any of your business. It's between me and my ungrateful son."

"Don't tell her to shut up," Elliot growled, stepping around Olivia to move closer to Bernie, his hands clenched into white knuckled fists. "At least she can keep it together under stress. The first thing you do is go off your meds, which is the _worst_ way to handle it. At least Olivia would be there for her son."

"Oh sure, she's there for her son all right." Bernie's teeth were clenched, her words a prolonged hiss. "Your perfect Olivia has been lying to her son for years. And to you. You are that boy's father Elliot."

In that moment, Olivia was sure that her heart stopped beating, that the blood clogged in her veins, that her lungs ceased to expand and contract. She had to clutch the back of a chair to keep from collapsing as her knees wobbled. When she finally managed to glance up at Elliot, she noticed that he wasn't looking at her at all. He was still glaring at his mother, jaw tight.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you say something ridiculous like that? If I were Chase's father, Olivia would have told me!"

As if to verify the veracity of that statement, Elliot finally looked at Olivia, his brow furrowed, the corners of his mouth bent down into a frown.

The look on her face said it all.

Suddenly, he wasn't so sure of anything anymore.

* * *

The fight ended instantly.

Elliot stood there frozen, mouth hanging open, shell shocked.

Bernie burst into tears and stormed up the stairs, the sound of her slamming door echoing through the disheveled house.

Olivia remained motionless, unable to meet Elliot's eyes, heart full of dread, awaiting the explosion.

The explosion that never came.

Slowly, wordlessly, Elliot turned and wandered into the kitchen, dazed. She heard him rummaging through the cupboards, searching, and then the clink of glass on glass, and the sound of a liquid pouring.

Feet leaden, Olivia slumped into the kitchen after him, her heart thumping weakly.

It was time to face the music.

He was standing in the middle of a pile of broken glass, the shards crunching under his tennis shoes. He leaned on the white oak countertop with his hands, head down, staring into the depths of a tumbler with just the barest trace of amber liquid pooling in the bottom. Beside his right hand, a bottle of Jack Daniels stood at attention.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Elliot's voice was hoarse and he didn't raise his eyes to look at her as he spoke. It was all he could do just to process.

"I wanted to," Olivia admitted slowly, hovering just inside the kitchen entranceway and preserving his space. "I just didn't know how, couldn't find the right time."

"Jesus Christ Olivia. You've had twelve fucking years. You couldn't find a single time in there to tell me?" Elliot shook his head, his voice surprisingly level. "Does Chase know?"

Olivia shook her head in the negative, chewing on her bottom lip. "No. He doesn't know."

"Christ." Elliot poured another shot into the glass and chugged it back, his body heating with a combination of alcohol and anger. "So I didn't know, and he didn't know. But my mom did."

"I didn't tell her," Olivia insisted quickly, holding up her hands defensively. "She guessed."

"Anyone else?"

Olivia hesitated, then elected to come clean. "Alex."

Elliot tilted his head slightly to look at her, his eyes frigid. "So you told your friend, but not me. Not Chase. The two people who really _should_ have known."

"I'm sorry."

It was inadequate but genuine, and it was all she had. She was definitely sorry. She wanted to cross the distance between them, to touch him, to make some sort of physical contact, but it would not have been welcome, and she knew it. So Olivia hung back and let Elliot process at his own pace as the questions kept coming.

"Did you know you were pregnant when you left?" Elliot's expression was emotionless.

When she didn't speak immediately, his voice got sharper, louder. "Answer me Olivia, goddamn it. Did you know when you left you were pregnant with my child?"

"No, I didn't. I swear. I wouldn't have left if I had." Olivia tried to siphon the pleading out of her tone as she leaned back against the cupboard, her hands shaking slightly.

Elliot chuckled darkly, filling his tumbler a final time before slapping the lid back on the bottle. "I would love to believe you Olivia, but since you've been lying to me for years, I don't think I can."

Olivia shrugged, feeling empty inside. No matter what she said now, she had already lost. "Believe what you want El. I'm telling the truth."

"Christ Olivia. You know what I can't believe? I can't believe you didn't tell me." Elliot's voice grew more and more strained, the cords in his neck bulging as his body tensed. "Why didn't you call me? The second you found out. I had a fucking right to know!"

Olivia pushed off the cupboards, scratching at her elbow absently. A cold sweat had formed on her spine and she shivered. "I had been gone for three months when I found out. I didn't figure you wanted anything to do with me at that point, and I thought calling you and telling you I was pregnant would just be rubbing your nose in it. I didn't want to hurt you."

Spinning abruptly on his heels, Elliot smashed his glass down on the table, his grip so tight and the impact so ferocious that the glass shattered and shards went flying every which direction, the glistening fragments twinkling in the light like errant fireflies. Olivia winced as a few shards flew in her direction but didn't back down, determined to let him purge his system, to let him punish her the way she deserved to be punished for what she had done, for her lies.

"You didn't want to hurt me? You stole my fucking life Olivia!" Elliot was yelling now, his eyes wild as he glared at her. "You don't get it, do you? You were my life! When you left, you stole everything that mattered to me. And now you tell me that not only did you rob me of the woman I love, but you also robbed me of my son. I have missed out on the first twelve damn years of his life, and you expect me to be fine with that? To understand? Well you know what, I do understand. I understand that I missed out on the opportunity to see that first ultrasound, to hold him in the delivery room. To see his first steps. To hear his first words. How fucking fair is that Olivia? He's my son! Christ."

Turning away from her, Elliot clenched his hands to his side as he resumed pacing, his steps short, jerky. A sudden tiny splash on the ceramic tile caught Olivia's eye. Glancing down, she noticed a bright red splotch marring the snow white floor. Looking up, she saw droplets of blood seeping from Elliot's hand, shards of broken glass having embedded themselves painfully in his skin.

"Elliot . . ." Olivia took a step forward, unsure of what she hoped to accomplish.

She didn't get far. Elliot immediately backed away from her advance, holding up his bloody hands as if in surrender.

"I'm done Olivia." His voice was lower now, but no softer. Still as rough and tortured as a jagged rock. "I'm done with you. Just hurry up and go back to New York and get the hell out of my life for good."

Pivoting on his heels, Elliot strode over to the far wall and grabbed her keys off the mounted key rack, tossing them in her direction. They flew through the air and crashed to the ground a foot or so away, skittering across the white ceramic tile, stopping only when they met up with some overturned pots.

"Elliot . . ."

She tried again, but there was nothing she could say. Nothing that would make it better for him. Nothing that would ease the pain of her betrayal. But she wanted to, so badly it physically hurt.

"Get out Olivia." Elliot spoke through gritted teeth. He was leaning against the counter again for support, his bloody palm print smeared all over the smooth surface. "I can't even look at you. Get the fuck out of my house. Right now."

"Mom." Chase suddenly appeared in the kitchen entranceway, the freckles jumping out against his pale skin. His lower lip trembled and Olivia could see his thin frame shaking as he stared at them both, his dark eyes hooded.

There was no doubt he had heard every word.

Ashamed, Elliot couldn't even bring himself to lift his head, the knot in his gut so tight he thought he would vomit. His son. _His_ son.

Moving over to stand beside his mother, Chase bent down and picked up the keys, clutching them tightly in his small hand. When he straightened back up, his eyes were stony and he glared at Elliot, his face the mirror image of his father's trademark intensity. Holding his chin high, Chase reached out and grabbed his mother's hand, tugging it lightly.

"Come on Mom. Let's go."

It was pouring rain when they trotted down the stairs of the front porch and ran over to Olivia's car, leaving Elliot alone with his demons.


	18. Crack

_A/N – I know, it took forever. Sorry. No lame excuses. But here it is._

_If you are interested in viewing the awesome banner that Mils and MrsRoy created for "Atonement", please check out MrsRoy's Tumblr. It's a few pages back now._

_This chapter is dedicated to Rachel for all her steadfast encouragement!_

**Chapter 17 – Crack**

There was a crack in the ceiling. A long, meandering one.

It was etched into the aging plaster above her head, the cream paint on either side chipping and flaking away. Originating on the far side of the room, it slithered across the expanse of ceiling to the head of the double bed before branching out into two forks reminiscent of a snake's tongue.

She had noticed the fissure for the first time the previous evening, had watched it wind and shimmy in the dying light of day. Once darkness fell, it was invisible to her for hours, a looming, God-like presence above as she lay restlessly on the patchwork quilt. When the sun pressed against the trembling horizon the next morning and the fracture came back into focus, she watched shifting shadows dance along its crevices like mischievous imps. By mid-afternoon, the jagged gouge had morphed into a fluorescent river against the pale plaster.

Huh. Interesting. How had she never noticed that crack before?

She must have been blind.

"Mom?"

Floating in from the bedroom doorway, Chase's disembodied voice was as grating as nails on a chalkboard to Olivia's weary ears. Despite the stifling summer heat that flooded into the room through the open curtains, she kept a thick woolen blanket draped over her body, an imaginary buffer from the pain she knew skulked in the waking world. Her thin pajamas clung to her body with sweat but she made no move to kick off the roasting blanket. The sweat was cathartic and, as she lay curled up on her right side, Olivia pretended that each drop of perspiration removed poisonous hurt from her body.

Even if that were the case, she would need to sweat for months to drain it all.

"Mom?"

It was that damn voice again.

Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, Olivia prayed that if she played as dead as she felt inside Chase would leave her alone. That thought alone triggered another rush of crushing guilt that flattened her further into the mattress.

She needed to pull it together. Needed to embody the strength she someday hoped he would emulate. For her son. For _their_ son.

But she couldn't.

"Mom!"

Chase's voice was louder now, more insistent, having inched closer to the foot of the bed. Anxiety tinged the edges of his words and Olivia's maternal instinct started to whine in protest of her inaction. Had she had even the tiniest bit of motivation to move, she would have been sitting up by then, but she had none.

And so she didn't.

The aging hardwood squeaked and Olivia could hear the shuffle of Chase's feet as he drew up to hover over her.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

It was a fair question that Olivia had no desire to answer honestly. She wasn't, but that was far too much of a burden to place on her young son's thin shoulders.

She had lost Elliot for the second time. Had rocked the foundation of their son's life, altered all that he knew to be true. Had proved herself to be a liar, to be untrustworthy. Had committed sins she did not have enough years left in her life to atone for.

Christ, what kind of role model was she? What kind of mother?

Without opening her eyes, Olivia burrowed down further into the sweat-stained cotton sheets and attempted to ease some of her son's concern with a voice rusty from neglect.

"I'm fine Chase. My stomach is just upset. I'll feel better after I sleep."

Chase's voice was directly above her now, and in her mind's eye Olivia could picture him gnawing on his bottom lip nervously. "But you've been sleeping all day."

_Lying in bed does not count as sleeping . . ._

Gritting her teeth in annoyance, Olivia struggled to keep her voice flat. "Chase, just leave me alone, please."

It sounded harsh, but it was an improvement over what she really wanted to say.

_I can't deal with you right now. I can't deal with the hurt that I've caused you, with the lies that I've fed you. With how much you must hate me . . ._

"But I made you lunch."

Chase's voice was so plaintive that Olivia's already battered heart was rattled with yet another blow. Slowly, reluctantly, she cracked open one eye, wincing at the bright sunlight that poured in through her swollen lids. Above her, Chase's tanned face was pale, his dark eyes cloudy. A small thrill of triumph registered on his features when she finally made eye contact, and he quickly shoved a chipped plate in her direction, eager to capture her attention before it passed. A lone sandwich slid precariously over the smooth porcelain, its whole wheat epidermis soggy with jam, the spreading red stain reminiscent of blood beneath the skin.

The sight brought tears to her eyes.

Chase's young life had been turned upside down by her deception, and yet here he was, caring for her. Demonstrating far more strength than she could summon.

There was no justice in the world. Not for Chase.

He deserved a better mother. He deserved to know his real father.

Propping her head up on one hand, Olivia gently brushed the shaggy hair out of Chase's troubled eyes with the other. "I'm so sorry Chase. I should have told you a long time ago that Elliot was your dad."

In that moment, it seemed all she had done for the last two months was apologize. Those apologies were a poor substitute for the truth, but they were all she had.

And for her son, with his unconditional love, it was enough.

Wordlessly, Chase lowered the plate onto the side table and crawled into the bed beside her, burying his face into the crook of her neck like he had as a baby. The mattress springs squeaked as Olivia enveloped him in her arms and cradled him tight against her body, her free hand stroking his soft hair as she fought against tears.

How could she possibly make amends for what he had lost over the last twelve years? For what Elliot had lost?

For what she had lost?

"He hates me, doesn't he Mom?" The caress of Chase's warm breath against her sweaty neck made Olivia jump, and she shifted to look down at him, her drawn face mirrored in his serious eyes. "He's never going to want to see me again."

Taking a deep breath, Olivia kissed her son's temple softly. "That's not true Buddy. He loves you, very, very much. Your fath- . . . Elliot's anger is directed at me. Not at you."

His face hardening, Chase snuggled further into her, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "He was a real prick to you, Mom."

"Chase!" Olivia admonished, pulling away slightly, simultaneously surprised and amused by the language. "That's not a nice word."

Chase shrugged carelessly, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the scrutinizing crack. He blew his unruly hair away from his eyes with a short blast of air. "Well he was. He shouldn't have yelled at you. That was mean."

Heart swelling at her son's protectiveness, Olivia reached over to hug him softly. "You're right Buddy. You shouldn't talk to people that way. But Elliot was really upset, and he's right too. I should have told you both a long time ago. I hope someday you will both understand my reasons and that you can put the problems between your da- . . . Elliot and I behind you. I know he's going to want to be a part of your life. A big part."

"I'm not leaving you." Chase's response was immediate and fierce and his soft hair whispered against the pillow as he turned to look at her, panic contorting his features. "I don't want to stay here if you're not here. I love you Mom."

Olivia's heart spilled over as she hugged her son so tightly she wondered vaguely if he could still breathe. Closing her swimming eyes, she buried her nose in his hair and inhaled the unique scent she had treasured since the very first second she had cradled him in her arms.

"I love you too Buddy. More than anything in this world."

* * *

They fell asleep together that smoldering August day, curled up in the rickety double bed much like that first stormy night in Portside. Their slumber was solid and only the insistent chime of the doorbell jolted Olivia out of an unhappy dream. Curled up tightly beside her, Chase's head was buried into the pillow, his facial muscles loose in slumber, his eyelashes fluttering slightly.

It was so peaceful that she was tempted to pull the covers over both of them and block out the resonating echo of the bell before a loose thread floated into her mind.

_Elliot. It could be Elliot._

Slipping carefully from beneath the blanket so as not to rouse her slumbering son, Olivia grabbed a thin silk bathrobe off the hook behind the door and hustled down the stairs, her hand gliding along the smooth oak banister as she went. She had made it to within a few feet of the door when the wooden planks of the porch creaked, signifying her visitor's retreat down the stairs. Through the thin chenille of the sheath that covered the kitchen window, she caught sight of the Sherriff's cruiser, lounging behind her silver car in the gravel driveway.

_It was Elliot_. _And he was leaving._

Tightening the slippery belt of the robe over her thin pajamas, Olivia broke into a run, her heart thudding nervously in her chest. Reaching the door, she ripped it open and bolted through the screen, calling out Elliot's name before she had even crossed the threshold.

"Elliot, wait!"

But it was Jake who turned around.

"Olivia!" Despite the wide aviator sunglasses that shaded his eyes, the relief on Jake's face was transparent. "There you are! I was worried. I've been calling your cell all day. Where have you been?" His dress shoes crunching in the gravel of the driveway, Jake strode toward her purposefully, the bright sun darkening his navy uniform to a midnight black.

The scorching sun beat against her face as she stood hesitantly on the porch and Olivia tightened her robe self-consciously around her middle. "It's turned off. I haven't been feeling well." A sickening thought flitted through her mind. "What are you doing with Elliot's patrol car? Is he okay?"

"He's fine." Jake stepped up onto the porch beside her, his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. "I'm more concerned about you. Yesterday must have been really upsetting, what with the break-in at Missus Stabler's and all." Jake cleared his throat, running a smooth hand over his face. "I just wanted to check on you, see how you're holding up."

"I'm good." The heat of the day was suffocating and Olivia backed up slightly with a weak smile, eager to return to the relative cool of inside. "You're sweet to look in on me, but I'm fine. Really. Thanks for stopping by Jake. Have a good evening."

She had nearly made it back inside when Jake spoke next.

"Can I come in?" His voice was almost boyish in its earnestness. "Just for a bit?"

Groaning internally, Olivia hesitated before slowly turning around. A foot or two behind her, Jake's face bore an uncanny resemblance to that of an eager for praise puppy. "I was just getting ready to have a shower. How about another time?"

Nodding amiably, Jake wiped a layer of sweat off his forehead and grinned. "A rain check then. Do you think I could come in and get a drink of water though? It's hot as Hades out here."

_Fuck. This guy just did not get the hint._

"Sure." Stifling a defeated sigh, Olivia nodded him inside.

It was somewhat cooler within the walls of the large Victorian, away from the direct sunlight, and Jake's boots scuffed across the worn tile as they traipsed toward the refrigerator, Olivia in lead. The water pitcher began sweating the second she removed it from the cool confines of the fridge to pour him a glass, the condensation dripping off her fingers and splashing onto the floor like Elliot's blood had the night before.

_Elliot. What was he thinking? Feeling?_

Their fingers touched as Olivia handed Jake the glass and she could feel his intelligent eyes boring into her face curiously. The intensity of his scrutiny was markedly uncomfortable, and she stepped away from him as quickly as possible, pretending that the cupboards were suddenly in need of significant rearrangement. Even as she puttered, Olivia could feel his eyes on her, and the sensation made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up. The room was so quiet that even the muted sounds of Jake's occasional swallows were audible.

"You seem nervous Liv." Jake's voice was low, his tone almost feral. "Sure you're okay?"

Pausing only long enough to toss him a quick smile over her shoulder, Olivia returned her attention to the cupboards, shuffling the order of the cereal boxes absently. "Not nervous at all. Just tired. I'm not much of a camper. The last five days pretty much wore me out.

_But the sex was energizing . . ._

Olivia heard the clink of a glass being lowered onto the counter of the breakfast island behind her a second before Jake's strong hands dropped onto her shoulders. She jumped a little at the contact, and his breath was warm in her ear as he tried to soothe her.

"Shhhhh. Relax. I'll bet you could use a good massage." The heat from Jake's thick hands warped through the thin material of her robe as he began kneading the knotted muscles of her shoulders rhythmically.

Reaching up quickly to grab his wiry wrists, Olivia turned around to face him, a rueful smile on her lips. "Jake, you're sweet. But all I really want is to be alone right now. Nothing personal."

Jake shrugged and took a step back, ever agreeable, but hurt simmered just below the glassy surface of his eyes. "It's Elliot, isn't it?"

Sighing, Olivia leaned back against the rumbling refrigerator, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes. I'm sorry Jake. I still love him.

Jake nodded slightly, as if he had known it all along. "Yeah, I figured something was still going on between you two. Guess I just didn't want to see it."

Olivia smiled lightly, reaching out to touch his face sadly. "It's over now Jake, but I'm not ready for another relationship. My heart belongs to him."

"I get it." Jake smiled reluctantly, his teeth white against his tan face. "I never had a chance. It's too bad. I would have treated you good."

"I know Jake. And I'm sorry."

"Me too." With a soft grin, Jake reached for his tinkling car keys, deputy's badge glinting in the light. "Guess I'll see you around Olivia."

As Jake pulled his keys out of his pocket, the action dislodged a small object that had been caught in the fabric there. It sailed to the floor, careening off the tile with a ping and skating over the surface until it came into contact with Olivia's big toe. The gilded edges of the object gleamed in the warm light as Olivia bent over to retrieve it.

And then froze when she realized what it was.

The intricate border was a woven gold design that flowed seamlessly around a bubbled body. The heart of the brooch was a gorgeous black-gray marble and, in the center, a cream replica of a woman's head stared up at Olivia.

To an ignorant onlooker, it was nothing but an elegant Cameo brooch.

To Olivia, it was far more than that.

It was Bernie's Cameo brooch. Bernie's _stolen_ Cameo brooch.

And Jake had it.

It took her a long moment to recover, a long moment to get her muscles to respond enough to reach down and palm the object. Realizing that her sudden hesitation spoke volumes, Olivia straightened back up quickly as her feverishly whirling mind worked through the process of putting two and two together.

And the answer was Jake.

"Oops, you dropped this." Olivia tried to look nonchalant and casual as she held out the brooch in the palm of her hand. When Jake didn't reach out immediately to take it from her, she forced herself to meet his eyes with as innocent a gaze as possible, her heart thudding dully in her chest.

Jake's eyes were hard, glittering emeralds, his face frighteningly blank when he eventually extended his hand to remove the jewelry from her grasp.

"You look like you've seen a ghost Olivia."

She laughed, a sound that was far too shrill and anxious even to her own ears. "Oh no, no. I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

Turning around, Olivia busied herself unloading dishes from the sink, her pulse thundering in her veins as she tried to bury this newfound knowledge before it seeped to the surface of her face. "Thanks again for stopping by Jake. Maybe I'll see you next week at Alex's birthday party."

The clink of the dishes drowned out the sound of the hammer cocking, but the press of the cool metal gun barrel against the warm skin of her neck was unmistakable as Jake's voice rumbled in her ear.

"No, sweetheart. I don't think you'll make it."


	19. Paralyzed

**Chapter 18 – Paralyzed**

She was proud of herself for remaining calm, because it could have gone the other way.

She could have cried. Begged. Pleaded. Cursed.

But she didn't.

Her heart rate skyrocketed, her pulse thundered, her breath quickened, her stomach dropped, her throat tightened, her back tensed, her knees weakened, her hands shook, and her eyes filled.

But Olivia did not crumble.

She stood frozen in place instead and tried to regulate her breathing, thoughts focused on her young son upstairs.

_Please God, let him keep sleeping_.

The ringed barrel of the gun was lodged firmly against her throbbing pulse point, the sight jabbing into the loose skin. Jake's gun hand was steady, his other hand firm as he reached through her hair to grasp the back of her neck.

Flinching reflexively, Olivia struggled to locate her voice and quiet her churning mind.

"Jake-"

"Shut up."

Jake's typically soft voice had lost its gentle cadence and the hand on her neck applied vicelike pressure until her knees caved and Olivia dropped down to the floor. "I'm sorry to have to do this, but you've given me no choice."

Shifting until he stood beside her, Jake pressed the gun muzzle firmly into the nape of Olivia's neck as he reached around and untied the sash of her robe. The thin fabric whispered through the belt loops and Olivia closed her eyes as the robe fell open, exposing her flimsy pyjamas underneath.

Jake's green eyes raked over her body and he made a harsh, guttural noise in the back of his throat before speaking. "Christ, what a waste. I liked you Olivia. I really did."

His use of the past tense made Olivia's entire body go cold but she kept her chin up as best she could with a gun pointed at the nape of her neck.

Shaking his head as if to remove the cobwebs, Jake took a deep breath and glanced around the room quickly before returning his gaze to the woman on her knees before him.

"Lay down on your stomach." When she hesitated, the anger in his voice escalated rapidly. "Now!"

Worried the noise would rouse Chase and incite him to investigate, Olivia eventually complied, the cool tile pressing against the length of her trembling body. Behind her, Jake shuffled around before dropping his knee into the small of her back and effectively paralyzing her. Grabbing her wrists with iron hands, he yanked them behind her back and tied them so firmly with the sash of her robe that the bound appendages immediately began tingling.

The sudden helplessness was overwhelmingly frightening and Olivia could feel the panic she had so successfully repressed earlier become more insistent.

"What are you going to do Jake?" Her voice shook far more than she had hoped it would.

"What do you think I'm going to do Olivia?" Jake asked, tugging on the tight knot to check its strength. The level timbre of his voice suggested he had completely distanced himself emotionally from the situation, compartmentalized it, blocked it from gnawing at his conscience.

It was an important skill for a cop, but in that moment it made him very, very dangerous.

"I won't say anything, I swear." Olivia's warm breath skirted the tile, her sweaty clothes chilling her skin despite the stifling heat. "You can just disappear. I will never breathe your name to anyone in connection with the break-ins. I'll even help you think up an excuse for disappearing."

It was an empty promise, and they both knew it.

With a dark chuckle, Jake crouched beside her, the barrel of the gun now pointing toward the floor. "I may not be your perfect Elliot, but I'm not a stupid hick either. The first thing you will do is run to Stabler, and I can't have that happening. I have no choice."

"There's always a choice," Olivia insisted plaintively, trying to surreptitiously fiddle with the knots by her wrists. "You could lock me in the basement. I wouldn't be able to get out in time to tell Elliot before you disappeared."

Jake shook his head with a snort, eyes jumping around the room as he pondered his next move. "I can't take the chance someone will come and find you. Mrs. Leland, or Chase."

As if speaking the name suddenly reminded him of the boy's existence, Jake frowned and glanced around the kitchen. "Where _is_ Chase?"

"Please, just leave him out of this," Olivia pleaded, rolling onto her side so she could meet Jake's seaweed green eyes. "He doesn't know anything. He's not even here."

_Please Chase, don't make a liar out of me right now._

Jake stared at her carefully, assessing the veracity of her claim. After a moment he seemed to accept it, but he raised his gun anyway and pointed it directly at her temple.

"Still, it's just easier to kill you."

"Elliot will know it was you!" Desperate to buy more time, Olivia squirmed away slightly on the slippery floor, the final vestiges of hope vacating her heart. "The bullet will be matched to your gun. He will come looking for you."

Jake smiled lightly but without warmth. "Maybe. But maybe not. Especially if the police in Stratford receive an anonymous tip that the Sherriff has been behind all the robberies here, desperate to make some cash to offset his poor late sister's medical bills. The only car that anyone driving past would have seen in your driveway today is Elliot's patrol car. He and I have identical guns. It's every bit as likely the bullet came from his as from mine."

Olivia snorted derisively, feeling a trickle of anger mix with the panic in her bowels.

"Anyone who has met Elliot would never believe that. He's an honest man, a man of honor, and integrity."

"And what you're suggesting then is that I'm not."

Irritated, Jake pushed the muzzle of the gun hard against her forehead until she was forced flat on her back, chest heaving with short, anxious breaths. Shifting to kneel between her legs, he spread her knees apart. "I didn't want to rob those houses, but I had to. This deputy gig pays shit all. I never would've saved up enough to go to film school in September. And I'll be damned if I'm staying in this Podunk town any longer."

The sound of gravel spitting beneath the wheels of an approaching vehicle floated in through the kitchen window on the thick breeze and Olivia felt a small spark of hope reignite in the darkest regions of her soul. Jake was too focused on his intense scrutiny of her body to notice the gravel or the sound of a poorly oiled car door creaking open and then clanging shut.

But the knock on the inside door made him jump.

Lurching to his feet, Jake whipped his pistol around to point it in the direction of the weathered wood, sweat breaking out on his forehead. After a moment of obvious internal debate and indecision, he returned his aim to Olivia's gut and motioned for her to respond.

"Who is it?" Olivia only partially succeeded in keeping her voice from trembling.

Outside, the rusted screen door creaked as the unidentified visitor leaned closer to the wood.

"It's me. It's Elliot."

Olivia nearly cried in relief at the sound of Elliot's voice, but the gouge of the gun muzzle in her gullet strangled the noise.

"Tell him to go away. If he comes in here, I'm shooting him first, and then you." Jake's face was strained as he leaned over to whisper in her ear, sweat dripping from his brow onto her pyjamas.

Swallowing hard, Olivia winced at the burning pain in her bound wrists as she struggled slightly to free her hands. "Go away Elliot."

Her request must not have been as convincing as Jake desired, because he dug the muzzle of the gun into her stomach in anger until she gasped lightly.

Outside, the screen door squeaked again as Elliot shifted his weight, one hand leaning against the door jam. From where Olivia lay, she could only see his shadowy outline through the narrow, frosted front door windows.

When Elliot spoke next, his deep voice was muffled by the barrier between them. "Liv, I know I've been a total ass. You have every right to be mad at me. But please, let me in so we can talk. I think we owe that much to Chase."

"Tell him you don't want to talk." Jake's breath was hot in her ear and Olivia squirmed uncomfortably under the press of his body.

When Olivia did as requested, Elliot's shadow became increasingly agitated, his weight shifting back and forth on the creaking porch, his shoulders square.

"Liv, please. I love you."

The admission warmed her despite the distance between them and Olivia nearly shouted with happiness. She wanted so badly to call out to him, to beg him to protect Chase, but she refused to be responsible for his death in the process.

Several moments passed and, when it became clear that Elliot was not going to go away without a fight, Jake swore softly and heaved himself into a standing position, using his foot to roll her over onto her belly. Her bound hands welcomed the change in position but her back was soon screaming as he dug the heel of his boot into the small of her back and levelled his gun at the door.

"Tell him to come in," Jake muttered gruffly, manoeuvring the gun into a level two-handed grip.

She wouldn't have done it, no matter how much pain Jake caused her. No matter how hard he pushed.

But she didn't need to.

In typical Elliot fashion, he was not about to take 'no' for an answer. There was only a momentary pause before the gold doorknob turned and he found it to be unlocked.

"I'm coming in Liv. We need to talk."

The door creaked open and Olivia drew a deep breath to call out a warning just as Jake dug the heel of his boot into her spleen and severed her air supply, morphing the warning into nothing more than an indignant squeak. Bit by bit, more and more of an unsuspecting Elliot came into view in the doorway, a bouquet of multi-colored flowers clutched in his hands.

Jake's finger twitched on the trigger.

"Elliot, watch out!"

Chase's horrified voice rang out from the entranceway to the kitchen. The sound startled Jake and his gun spit fire, launching a silver streak in Elliot's direction. The intended victim barely managed to duck in time before the bullet lodged itself into the wooden pillar that supported the porch roof.

As Elliot rolled off to the side and out of view, Jake swore and dragged Olivia to her feet, digging the muzzle of the gun back into the soft curve of her neck.

"You've done it now you little shit."

Chase glared at Jake defiantly, small fists clenched, as the older man stormed past and body checked the boy hard into the china cabinet. With a cry Chase fell to the floor, clutching his arm, face contorted in pain. Olivia yelled at Jake to stop as he positioned her in the doorway and shielded his own body with the wall.

For a moment, the room was deathly silent.

Peeking out from around Olivia, Jake cocked his head and listened carefully for any hint of movement on the front porch.

There was none.

"Elliot! Throw your gun inside and then step into the doorway where I can see you, or I'll shoot them both."

"Okay, okay. Just calm down."

Elliot's strained voice floated in from outside and his hand appeared in the doorway, gun resting in his palm. The disembodied hand lowered until it was parallel to the ground before flicking the hunk of metal across the floor. It careened over the smooth tile until it met the leg of a breakfast island stool and abruptly halted.

"Step inside," Jake barked, his hand locked around the back of Olivia's neck as he kept the gun pointed at her temple. Slowly, hands lifted in surrender, Elliot inched in through the door and Olivia's heart raced at the sight of him. At least if she was meant to die, she could say she got to see him, just that one more time.

And that was enough.

Absorbing the frightening scene before him, Elliot swallowed hard as a bead of sweat traced the contours of his spine. He inched in through the doorway, wary of making any sudden moves, his hands still held motionless in the air as his mind raced for an effective way to diffuse the situation.

It was so goddamn hard to think when his heart felt like it was about to explode.

On the floor by the china cabinet, Chase sat rigidly clutching his arm, his face as white as a cotton sheet. To his left, Olivia stood in the doorway, her pyjamas stuck to her body with sweat, her hands behind her back. Behind her, Jake's body was sheltered by the wall, only his eyes and gun hand visible.

Elliot had never been more terrified in his life.

"Just take it easy, okay Jake?" Elliot cajoled gently, taking a hesitant step toward the other three. "No one needs to get hurt."

Jake laughed bitterly, his face reflected in the glass of the china cabinet. "Really? You're going to just let me walk off into the sunset? I don't think so Elliot. I'm not the stupid kid you think I am."

"I know you're not stupid Jake. I also know you don't want to hurt anyone." Elliot inched closer across the tile, trying to still the trembling in his uplifted hands. "That's not the kind of person you are."

"You know nothing about me Elliot," Jake snarled, digging the gun roughly into Olivia's temple until her eyes snapped closed and a muscle in her cheek twitched. "You never cared enough to know. I was just a dumb dog to you. I couldn't have been that dumb though. You never figured out it was me robbing all the houses around this shitty little town."

Jolting slightly in surprise at the confession, Elliot halted, his knees wobbling. He had been so startled at the scene before him that he hadn't even bothered to process the reason why it was happening.

_Some cop he was_.

_Jake. This entire time, it had been Jake._

Slowly recovering his bearings, Elliot began inching forward again, the movement barely more than a languorous shuffle.

"No, you're right. You got me Jake. I never suspected you. I was a fool. But you don't need to do this. If you walk away from this without hurting anyone, I will make sure you get a lenient sentence. There's a light year of difference between theft and murder."

Jake chuckled, still hovering smugly behind the wall. "I'm not going to jail Elliot. Not for this piece of shit town."

A chill shimmied down Elliot's spine. "Olivia and Chase have nothing to do with this. Let them go. If you want to hold someone hostage, let it be me."

Gun hand steady, Jake hesitated for just a moment, and Elliot could see him weighing his options. Keeping an eye on all three of them at once _was_ challenging. He _was_ outnumbered. Minimizing the potential threats in the room would make his life somewhat easier, but he was not about to give up both trump cards.

Without Olivia and Chase between them, Elliot would act with no concern for the consequences. And they both knew it.

"The boy can go," Jake finally agreed gruffly, tilting his head in Chase's direction.

Chase had shakily made his way to his feet, still clutching his limp arm, tears now trailing down his cheeks. Jake knew he would run to the neighbors to call the police, but that knowledge was hardly alarming. The entire contingent of the Portside police force was in that room, and it would take the Stratford police at least an hour to arrive.

It would all be over by then. He would be long gone.

Ridiculously grateful for Jake's reluctant pittance, Elliot turned to Chase, eyes overflowing with emotion. "Chase, go."

His face a fresh mixture of pain and uncertainty, Chase looked at Elliot carefully for a moment before turning his gaze to Olivia. He shifted his weight but didn't move when she nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Chase . . ." Elliot tried again, his voice firmer this time, but Chase still didn't budge, his white-knuckled fingers clutching his arm.

"Chase!" Elliot and Olivia spoke in unison this time, their voices sharp. After only a moment's hesitation, Chase finally acquiesced, turning on his heels and vanishing into the kitchen before the sound of the screen door snapping shut signalled his departure.

"Into the living room. Now."

Holding Olivia at gun point, Jake slowly backed into the living room, his dark boots leaving ugly imprints on the cream carpet. His confidence grew as the distance between Elliot and his firearm expanded, and by the time the threesome were all squarely in the living room, a cocky smile had formed on his lips.

Hands still raised, Elliot followed dutifully, frantically trying to develop a strategy that would close the distance between them.

_If he could somehow manage to get his hands on that gun . . . _

Swallowing hard, Elliot struggled to avoid Olivia's eyes. One look and he would act on instinct alone to protect her. He needed to stay calm, to think clearly.

_If anything happened to her . . ._

"Jake, let's just talk this out," Elliot murmured beseechingly, tendrils of adrenaline wrapping around his heart and lungs until he thought both would collapse under the pressure.

"No talking," Jake snapped, gripping a handful of Olivia's dark hair and exposing her neck to the muzzle of his gun as his finger pressed lightly against the trigger. "Let's just get this over with."

"No!"

Chase's scream made everyone in the room jump. All eyes turned toward the sound as the young boy re-entered the room, Elliot's gun clutched in his small, sweaty hand. The sight was so unexpected that he had enough time to level the gun and pull the trigger before any of the adults could make a sound.

Chase's aim was good, but his inexperience was his downfall. The pistol's kickback jolted his entire body and sent him stumbling backward while the bullet raced through the air and lodged itself sharply in the ceiling, chunks of plaster falling to the carpet with a muffled thud. The impact jolted the gun from Chase's grasp and sent it flying a few feet away.

The danger had in all likelihood passed, but the threat of the smoking gun was still real enough that Jake reflexively pointed his gun and returned fire.

Elliot had only a split second to react, but that was all he needed.

Olivia's stunned gasp of shock and fear at the gun's retort was the only thing Elliot heard as he hurtled himself in Chase's direction, his body shielding the young boy's at the last possible second.

A moment's hesitation longer and Chase would have been dead.

The sleek bullet tore into Elliot's abdomen to the left of his belly button, his muscled flesh absorbing the harsh impact until it sounded like nothing more than a delicate thump.

There was no pain at first. Not from his abdomen, only a sharp, stinging sensation as his elbow glanced off the desk on his way down to the floor. For a split second, his entire body went numb, the scratchy fibres of the carpet barely registering against his skin. One hand automatically clutched the area where the bullet had entered while the other twitched reflexively beneath him. He could feel the sticky blood oozing between his fingers and he looked down almost in awe to see the red stain spreading across his shirt like wildfire.

And then the pain hit . . .

Around him, events unfolded in a hazy dream. Through fuzzy eyes he saw Olivia throw her shoulder into Jake's chest and knock him backward. The impact forced him into the back of the couch, clinging to his gun as if it were a lifeline. The carpet muffled both Olivia's voice and footsteps as she ran toward Elliot, finally freeing her wrists from their restraints.

Olivia had almost made it to him before Jake caught up with her. The butt of his gun came down hard against her cheekbone and for an instant she saw nothing but stars. The floor hurtled toward her face as she crashed down beside Elliot, her head exploding with agony. The cream carpet was sticky with Elliot's blood against her bare arm.

When her head stopped ringing, Olivia fumbled for Elliot's gun, which had fallen near Chase's feet, but Jake was too fast, stepping over the prone sheriff and kicking it under the china cabinet until it banged heavily against the wall. Before Olivia could react, Jake had grabbed Chase and hauled him to his feet, the gun now pressed firmly against the boy's temple. Chase's heels dragged along the floor, leaving winding trails in the carpet as Jake roughly pulled him backward.

"Please, don't hurt him," Olivia begged, pulling herself unsteadily into a seated position and crawling over beside Elliot, who lay motionless on the carpet. With shaking hands, she pushed up his shirt to find the gaping hole where the bullet had entered. Blood rushed out from the wound by the gallon, so dark it was nearly black.

Elliot was dying.

"No, no, no," Olivia muttered desperately, pulling off her silk robe and using it to apply pressure to the wound. It was drenched almost instantly, the blood staining her hands red, but she held the compress firm, even when Elliot groaned in pain.

"Hang in there El, please. I love you," Olivia whispered quietly, pressing down as hard as she dared to stem the flow of life from Elliot's body. Her eyes flew back up to where Jake and Chase stood, Chase crying and Jake watching in horror at the drama unfolding before him as if he were an innocent bystander.

Olivia was amazed at how steady her voice sounded when she spoke next. "You bastard. If he dies . . ."

"Liv . . ." Elliot's voice was weak beneath her and fluid bubbled in his lungs as he tried to draw a deep breath. Leaning down to hear him better, Olivia bit her lip hard to quell the flood of tears that threatened to wash away her rationality.

"Liv, I can't feel my legs."


	20. Impotent

**Chapter 19 – Impotent**

"_I can't feel my legs."_

His whispered words stopped her heart.

Froze it. Seized it. Stole it.

Sapped her spirit like the bullet wound sapped the crimson blood from Elliot's body.

Still clutching the blood-drenched robe to Elliot's wound, Olivia glanced down at the aforementioned appendages as they lay motionless on the floor, encased in a pair of dark navy uniform pants. The muscles in his abdomen twitched as she pressed the compress harder to the wound but there was no corresponding spasm in his legs.

The possibility that they may never move again was unfathomable.

"Try to relax El. I'm going to get you help." It took all the strength Olivia possessed to rip her eyes away from the static limbs and the ever expanding puddle of blood that pooled lazily around his waist. Below her, Elliot groaned once in pain before nodding sharply in acknowledgement, his breath slowing to short puffs of air but his eyes remaining wide and alert.

Face tight with rage, Olivia glared across the room to where Jake still held her son at gunpoint. Hatred built in the tips of her toes and raced heatedly through her bloodstream until all of her nerve endings fired and each tiny hair stood up on end.

"Jake, you need to let me call an ambulance. He's losing too much blood."

His expression dazed, Jake stared at her blankly as if he had never seen her before in his life. Only after he shook his head sharply once did the world appear to fall back into focus and he took that opportunity to secure Chase in a headlock and position him as a shield in front of his body.

"They'll never get here in time." Jake swallowed hard, the late day sunlight streaming in from the window down the hall bathing his body in a halo of light. "He'll be dead by the time they arrive. And I'm not about to stick around and get charged with murder on top of the robberies." Jake glanced behind him quickly, eyeing the door that led out onto the back porch and into the bordering forest. "I'm taking the boy. If you send anyone after me, I swear to God I'll kill him too."

He had nothing to lose, and they all knew it. It made Jake very, very dangerous.

"Liv." One of Elliot's hands suddenly wrapped around her wrist, the weak grip leaving a sticky blood ring on the tanned skin. As Olivia leaned over to make out his strangled words, Elliot coughed once, wetly. "We can't let him leave with Chase. I have my ankle holster on. There's a small gun in there."

A belly cough that morphed into a choke cut off Elliot's monologue momentarily and Olivia glanced up nervously at Jake and Chase, relieved to see that the former was too busy planning his escape route to pay the scene on the floor much attention.

Even after Elliot cleared his throat, his whispered voice was still raspy. "Do you remember our last summer together? When we went out to the woods behind your house and shot BB guns at tin cans?"

She did, fondly. The sensation of the warm sun on her shoulders, of Elliot's strong chest behind her, brushing against her back as he demonstrated how to aim, his wide hand dwarfing her smaller one.

"I remember."

Elliot nodded, his pale face coated in a sheen of sweat. "I can't move quick enough. When I say the word you need to get the gun, aim like you did that day, and fire."

Swallowing hard, Olivia wiped her sweaty, blood-stained palms on her pajama pants and nodded resolutely. She had no other choice, and she knew it. Reaching up, Elliot touched her cheek once, feather light, even the minute contact leaving a bloody fingerprint in its wake.

"I love you."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Elliot twisted with a groan and craned his neck to look up at his deputy. When he spoke this time, Elliot's words were as steady and solid as steel.

"Let my son go Jake."

Jake jumped visibly at both the strength in Elliot's tone and the meaning of his words. For a moment, only a moment, he wavered, his features contorted in uncertainty as he looked down at the squirming young boy trapped in his headlock.

"It's over." Olivia 's voice was nearly as strong as Elliot's, the timbre only weakening near the end as the hand resting on Elliot's side closed into a white-knuckled fist.

"Not as long as I have the gun," Jake snapped, his eyes filling with barely concealed panic as he took a step backward, still keeping Chase firmly in front of him as he edged closer to the back door.

It would not be an easy shot, and Olivia's stomach twisted nervously at the prospect. Odds were good that if she missed Jake, she would hit Chase.

She was already losing Elliot. She couldn't bear to lose them both.

Sensing her anxiety, Elliot looked up through the veil of pain that had coated his eyes, staring at Olivia until she felt his gaze and glanced down. His strength was fading quickly and he didn't want to waste any breath, knowing he would need it for one final, crucial instruction. Instead, he opted to mouth the words "You can do it" before focusing on the small boy trapped in Jake's headlock.

"Chase, remember what I taught you. Don't let anyone bully you ever again." The words were garbled, spoken around a mouthful of crimson blood, but it took only a moment before the meaning sunk in and Chase set his lips in a firm line, nodding slightly at his father.

Elliot nodded back.

And then it happened.

Lifting one knee up almost to his chin, Chase sharply drove the heel of his foot down into Jake's instep.

The move surprised the deputy and he cried out in pain, his grip around Chase's neck loosening just enough. Placing one hand under Jake's elbow and the other around Jake's wrist, Chase pushed up with the hand on the elbow, permitting him to duck his head out of the hold and slip around behind Jake's back, pulling the older man's wrist with him.

It was a perfect execution of the self-defense move Elliot had taught him a few days before, standing by the river in Smoky Mountain National Park.

"Liv, now!" Elliot barked the command and Olivia leapt into action, slipping down her prone lover's body, ripping up his pant leg, and jerking the small, obscured weapon from it leather holster. Spinning in Jake's direction, Olivia gripped the gun tightly, aimed high, and fired.

Jake was so distracted by his struggle with Chase that he didn't notice the gun until its sharp retort echoed through the room. An expression of shock barely had time to register on Jake's face before the bullet slammed into his shoulder, knocking him to the ground with a cry. The impact jolted the service revolver from his hand and Olivia bolted up and darted across the room to kick it out of his reach. Sidestepping carefully, Olivia held Elliot's gun on Jake as she walked over to Chase, enveloping him in as tight of a hug as her one free arm would allow.

"It's over. It's over."

Olivia breathed the words more than said them, holding her son close until a groan from the floor drew both of their attentions.

* * *

Olivia hated hospitals.

The ridiculously sanitary gleaming chrome fixtures. The sullen, overworked staff. The concerned faces of anxious family and friends. The rows and rows of snow white stretchers spread throughout the halls like tombstones.

And the stench. That was the worst.

Of antiseptic. Of urine. Of powerful sterilizer.

Of death.

It made her feel sick. Helpless. Impotent.

Afraid.

The cool faux leather material of the battered couch clung to the bare skin of Olivia's legs as she shivered in the freezer-like air conditioning of the Stratford General Hospital waiting room. The lilac purple scrubs that the weary hospital staff had provided her in exchange for her blood-soaked pajamas were two sizes too large and the thin material offered no warmth.

Beside her, Chase's gawky frame was stretched along the length of the couch, his spindly legs nearly touching the far arm. He lay motionless on his left side, his right arm encased in a sturdy fiberglass cast and tucked into a fabric sling. He had fallen asleep almost instantly, the prescribed painkillers and stress of the day exhausting his normally plentiful energy supply. His warm breath raised goosepimples on Olivia's legs as he snored lightly against her.

Across a table filled to overflowing with outdated magazines, Bernie sat quietly on the adjacent sofa, her face pale and drawn. Looking equally shell-shocked, Tom sat to one side, holding Bernie's hand comfortingly. His knee jiggled nervously as he watched people streaming in and out of the emergency room and Olivia wondered idly if he was reflecting on all the time he had spent in that very building while Julie was sick.

Elliot, Olivia, Chase, and Jake had left the Benson homestead in three separate ambulances. Obviously the most dire, Elliot had been carted away first, surrounded by a team of bustling paramedics who murmured unintelligible codes and catch phrases. Olivia had wanted desperately to go with him, but Chase's ashen face had kept her from scrambling into the back of the idling ambulance. She knew without question that Elliot would want her to stay with Chase.

Jake had been carted off next, his destination a different Stratford hospital. Moaning and clutching his shoulder, he had avoided Olivia's glare as he was wheeled past, the collar of his uniform stained with pain-induced sweat. The morose police officer who strolled alongside rattled off his rights methodically and in a monotone voice while jotting notes on his yellow legal pad.

Chase and Olivia had followed next in the same ambulance, the paramedics' attention largely focused on the young boy once they realized that the blood staining Olivia's clothing was not her own. Upon arriving at the hospital they had been separated only briefly while Olivia was examined by a stern looking doctor and a slightly more animated detective asked her a series of indepth questions. When she was returned to Chase's side half an hour later, he was being fitted with a cast after his X-Ray indicated a fracture. He had clutched at her hand tightly and gritted his teeth through the pain, his queries only of Elliot.

Was Elliot alive? Would he be okay?

Queries that she couldn't answer. Reassurances that she couldn't provide.

Olivia could still see the blood on her hands.

She had washed it off roughly when she first arrived, but the stench still clung to her, the invisible thick red paste lingering in the crevices of her hands, under her fingernails, and in the webbing between her fingers.

So much blood. So much of Elliot's blood. On her hands. On her shirt, on the floor.

Christ, the huge puddle on the floor . . .

"Mom?"

Chase's soft, sleepy voice jolted Olivia back to the present. He had risen from his place beside her on the couch, squinting dopily in the florescent lights, his eyes a hazy mixture of exhaustion and medication.

"How's Dad?"

Keeping her voice gentle, Olivia tried to smile reassuringly as she reached over to brush a few shaggy hairs out of Chase's eyes. "Nothing yet. Why don't you let me take you home? Mrs. Leland will be there. You could get some real sleep. I'll call when I hear something."

She hadn't even gotten the suggestion fully past her lips before Chase was shaking his head vehemently, wincing at the pain that shot in jagged bolts through his arm. "No. I want to stay here."

"Chase-"

"No!" Chase spoke sharper than she normally would have tolerated, and Olivia had to stifle a reprimand by pressing her lips together.

_The 'Elliot' was strong with this one._

Folding his arms across his chest, Chase stared at her defiantly. "I want to be here, when he wakes up."

_If he wakes up._

Olivia sighed internally and acquiesced, slumping back on her chilly faux leather perch. His posture softening at his mother's obvious distress, Chase watched her carefully for a moment before scooting over until their legs touched.

"Mom, will you tell me about Dad? When he was a kid?"

Despite the barely suppressed anguish rooted in the pit of her stomach, Olivia couldn't help the genuine smile that twitched on her lips. "Your dad was a character. Really popular. A charmer. Everyone loved him. He didn't like school, his grades weren't nearly as good as yours, but he was really into sports. He was on pretty much every team. Baseball was his favorite though. You have that in common."

Chase smiled, his freckled face illuminating. "Am I like him in other ways too?"

Olivia grinned wryly, ruffling her son's hair affectionately. "You have his temper. And if you look really closely, his cheekbones."

Chase looked pleased for a moment before the reality of the situation sunk back in. "I don't want him to die Mom. Not before I really get to know him."

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek hard to stem the tears. "I know Buddy. The doctors here are doing everything they can for him, and your dad is strong."

With a reluctant, unconvinced nod Chase lay back down, his head resting on her leg as he stared off into space, gnawing nervously on his lower lip. Gazing down at him with affection, Olivia's thoughts drifted back to the last time she had been in a hospital with her son - the day he had been born.

_That_ pain she would never forget.

Contraction after contraction of agony, sweat pouring down her face as she clutched the sheets and bit her lower lip so hard she could taste blood. Every muscle in her body had trembled with the effort.

She had never been more scared in her life.

As jagged fingers of pain had squeezed the muscles in her thighs, Olivia's thoughts were of one person.

_Elliot_.

Digging deep to find the energy to push, Olivia had wished with her entire being for Elliot to suddenly appear, to hold her hand, to whisper words of encouragement. To soothe the panic she had felt when a look of unease crossed the doctor's face and the nurses began prepping her for an emergency C-section.

Thirty minutes later, it was over.

Chase was in her arms, red faced and screaming, while Olivia sobbed partly in happiness and partly in sorrow, wishing Elliot had been there, his thick finger clutched in Chase's tiny fist.

Back in her room, Olivia had been nursing Chase when Phil finally showed up, flowers in hand. She had been weak and vulnerable, and when Phil dropped to one knee and proposed, she had accepted, desperate to give Chase a stable home and two loving parents.

In that, Olivia had failed. Now, her son might never know the truth of a father's love.

And she had no one to blame for that but herself.

"Mrs. Stabler?"

A fresh-faced doctor materialized in the waiting area like an apparition and both Bernie and Olivia shot to their feet, disturbing Tom and Chase in the process.

"I'm Elliot's mother." Bernie's voice trembled as she wrung her hands near her abdomen. "Is he going to be okay?"

The young doctor smiled, a thin line of sweat still beaded along his receding hairline. "He came out of surgery very well. We were able to locate all the shards of the bullet and remove them. We've stopped the internal bleeding and given him several transfusions. Our main concern was one of the shards that had embedded in his spine." The doctor hesitated for a moment, his green surgical mask still clutched in his hand. "We did manage to remove the shard and tried to repair the damage, but he's still showing no pain response in his lower body. That being said, we are hopeful that, with intense therapy, any paralysis will only be temporary."

The good news crumbled Bernie, and she collapsed back on the waiting room couch in tears while Olivia choked back a cry of relief.

For a moment, Tom was the only one able to speak coherently. "Thank you Doctor."

"Can we see him?" Bernie found her voice quickly, her shaking hands cupping her cheeks as she leaned forward on the couch and tried to steady her wobbling legs.

The young doctor smiled kindly. "One at a time, and only for five minutes each. He needs his rest. He's in recovery at the moment, in and out of consciousness, but I'm sure he would love to see you."

The look on Bernie's face was pleading and Olivia reached over to squeeze the older woman's hand. "You go first. You're his mom, there's got to be some perks."

With a grateful smile Bernie stood and followed the doctor, squeezing through a slew of warm bodies in the waiting area. When she returned several minutes later, her sallow complexion had brightened noticeably and her eyes sparkled. "He wants to see you. Both of you. He refuses to accept any medication or sleep until he knows you're okay. I tried to reassure him, but you know Elliot." Bernie shook her head with an affectionate chuckle. "If you don't go in there, he's going to make everyone's life a living hell."

The hallway leading to the recovery unit was a foreboding tunnel of whitewashed walls and hushed conversation. Patients of all different shapes and sizes shuffled by, some dragging mounted IVs while others were wheeled by hunched orderlies. Loud moans filtered through the air from some rooms and Chase clutched Olivia's hand tightly as they walked, his body pressed against her side as he shifted to avoid an errant wheelchair.

_Possibly Elliot's mode of transportation for the foreseeable future_.

A frightening thought, but it could have been worse. Far worse. He could have been dead.

Anything else they could come back from. Together.

Despite the volume of people milling about the emergency department, the recovery room was surprisingly quiet and nearly empty. Pushing through the heavy swinging doors, Olivia caught sight of Elliot immediately. He blended in, chameleon-like, with his environment, his pale skin matching perfectly with the bright white linen and off-white curtain that surrounded his bed. The beep and hiss of medical instruments melded melodically with the low murmur of nurses as they bustled around between beds, checking fluid levels and blood pressure readings.

Elliot's eyes were closed, his head tilted to one side on his snow-white pillow. Hollow tubes snaked in and out of his body, some carrying liquid in, others removing it. The dark circles under his eyes matched perfectly with the day old stubble on his chin, both standing out like neon against his watery skin. Olivia's heart ached at Elliot's obvious vulnerability and she dropped a comforting hand to Chase's bony shoulder.

As if sensing their presence, Elliot's eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus through the heavy anesthetic that he had only just begun to shake. Catching sight of them, his face broke into a grin and he lifted a hand weakly in greeting.

That simple gesture broke Chase.

Bursting into tears, the young boy took off at a run toward Elliot. Olivia tried to grab him, restrain him, but her questing fingers met nothing but air as the boy darted toward his father, forcing Olivia to call out a warning.

Ignoring both his mother's warning and the pain in his arm, Chase threw himself at Elliot, trapping his father in a warm hug. Elliot winced at the initial contact but the pain was quickly muted by the feeling of love and happiness that spread through his body. Clutching the young boy to him, Elliot dropped a kiss to his hair and inhaled his unique scent.

His son. _His son_.

Elliot lost track of how long they embraced, the boy's tears staining the front of Elliot's paper thin hospital gown. That simple contact brought Elliot a sense of peace unlike any he had ever experienced. He may have missed out on a great deal, but by the grace of some higher power, he was going to have the chance to make up for that. To atone for his sins.

"You and Mom saved me." Chase's voice was muffled by the material of the hospital gown, his grip on Elliot tight, his cheek pressed firmly against his father's chest.

"No Chase, you saved us," Elliot insisted roughly, stroking the young boy's unruly hair. "In ways you can't even begin to understand."

Wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt, Chase finally straightened up and smiled widely. "I remembered. That move you taught me, I remembered."

Elliot's grin was every bit as wide as Chase's. "You sure did. You were very brave. I am so proud of you." Glancing down at the boy's injured arm, Elliot struggled to keep his anger at Jake from registering on his face. "Hey, cool cast. We're going to have to get all the guys from the team to sign it when I get out of here."

When Olivia finally materialized behind Chase, Elliot smiled at her softly before returning his gaze to his son. "Hey Buddy, could you go find Grandma? Tell her that I said she should take you to the hospital gift shop and buy you a chocolate bar. I'd like a few minutes alone with your Mom."

Chase nodded, holding his chin high before wrapping his good arm around his father for a final hug. "I love you Dad."

Elliot choked on the emotion that swarmed his chest and it took him a full minute to find his way through and express the words. "I love you too Chase. So much."

As Chase disappeared through the swinging doors, Olivia pulled up a hard chair beside the bed and sat down, her hands squeezed anxiously between her knees. Silently, Elliot reached out and gently outlined the ugly blood-mottled bruise that had surfaced on her cheek from the blow of the gun butt.

"Are you okay? The doc check you out?" Elliot dropped his hand down, gently extricating one of Olivia's hands from the vise between her legs and enveloping it in his.

Olivia chuckled and forced back tears as she gazed down at their entwined hands. "I'm fine. It's you that I'm worried about."

Elliot smiled wanly, tugging lightly on her fingers. "I'm good. I feel better now that I've seen you and Chase."

Olivia returned the smile as a white-coated doctor stepped into the room clutching a clipboard, a scrubs-clad nurse right on his heels. "Will you take some medication now? Please? You need to sleep."

Elliot agreed easily, drowsy now that the sharpest of the worry had ebbed from his mind. They both watched as the ever helpful medical staff attached a new bag to the IV stand and then disappeared through the swinging doors, leaving them alone once more.

Elliot's eyes drooped almost immediately, but he fought to remain awake for just a minute longer. "Liv, promise me something?"

Rubbing her thumb over his knuckles soothingly, Olivia smiled. "Anything El."

And she meant it.

Elliot's eyes closed and, for a moment, sleep threatened to swallow the promised promise, but he managed to find the strength to speak again. "Promise me you won't go back to New York. Not until I get out of here. I want to spend time with you, and our son. Outside of here. I want to get to know him better. And I want to get to know you again."

Olivia nodded without hesitation, that decision having already been made hours ago. "I promise El. We're not going anywhere. We'll be here."

Her ready agreement, combined with the newly administered medication, soothed the remaining pain that had settled in Elliot's bones and sleep washed over him. Olivia sat beside him quietly, holding his hand and gazing down at Elliot's strong features until his breathing steadied and the beeps of the machines had settled into a rhythmic beat.

She had almost made it out the swinging doors when she heard him say her name. It was a miracle that he was able to make himself heard amid the other noises, but something made her turn and she noticed his eyes were open again as he motioned for her to come close.

Back at his bedside, Olivia could see he was struggling valiantly against unconsciousness, his soft eyes half-lidded. Licking his dry, cracked lips, Elliot smiled up at her gently, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"I almost forgot to tell you. I've got good news."

Olivia dropped a hand onto his chest as she smiled down at him. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

Glancing around the room to make sure none of the nurses were within earshot, Elliot winked and shot a meaningful glance down the length of his body.

"I asked. It still works."


	21. Ready

_A/N – This epilogue is dedicated to two wonderful ladies:_

_To Sitarra, my brilliant beta – this story would not have been nearly as good without your support and guidance. Thank you so much! I am in your debt!_

_To Rachel – for everything. There are no words._

_A huge Thank You! to everyone who has read and/or reviewed. Your kind words have warmed my heart! I appreciate your support and encouragement._

_Happy Holidays everyone!_

**Epilogue – Ready**

_1.5 years later_

Christmas Day dawned overcast but beautiful.

Fresh snow had fallen during the night in Portside, coating the earth in a shimmering white blanket. Slowly, house-by-house, the quaint neighborhood awoke to the winter wonderland, lights flicking on as children woke and rushed to sit down by the tree. In the big picture windows that faced the sidewalk, unique Christmas trees were visible, their tiny, colorful bulbs twinkling. On the front door of the small Victorian on the corner of the block, a red-bowed wreath bounced as Bernie rapped cheerfully on the weathered wood.

"Grandma, Uncle Tom, and your cousins are here Chase," Olivia called, lowering her water glass onto the side table and slowly heaving herself off the polyester couch. Feet away, the Benson-Stabler Christmas Tree was aglow, its small LED lights glinting off ornaments and reflecting down onto the piles of carefully wrapped presents below. As Olivia maneuvered toward the front door, feet thundered on the stairs and Chase came flying down, his shaggy brown hair blowing in the self-generated breeze.

"I've got it Mom," Chase said cheerfully, launching himself off the bottom step and skidding on the shiny hardwood floor. Finding his balance, he trotted to the front door and flung it open with a flourish.

"Merry Christmas!"

His jolly greeting was returned in kind as Autumn, Cyndi, and Joe all poured in, arms overflowing with presents, faces rosy with cold. Kicking off their boots and shedding their colorful winter garb, they dashed into the living room to see the tree and the loads of presents beneath it, chattering excitedly.

Bernie was right on their heels, brushing snow off her mittens as she smiled widely. "There's my handsome grandson!" She managed to snag Chase and pull him into a tight hug before he escaped into the living room to exclaim over the piles of gifts with his cousins.

Tom arrived inside a moment later, carting container after container of food into the kitchen as Olivia and Bernie embraced gingerly.

"Merry Christmas," Bernie murmured, eyes closed as she squeezed Olivia as tightly as she dared. When they finally pulled apart, Bernie eyed the younger woman with concern. "You look tired love."

"I am a little tired," Olivia admitted with a chuckle, helping Bernie off with her coat. "But there's no sleeping in today. Chase was up with the birds, staring at that tree like it would make you guys get here faster."

Bernie glanced around the living room with a frown. "Where's Elliot? He didn't go into work today, did he? If he did, I'm gonna-"

Olivia interrupted her with a laugh. "He's been having problems with his back for the last few days, so it hasn't taken much convincing to keep him away from the office. He's upstairs changing Chloe right now. It's probably going to take a while, but he's here."

"My ears are burning." Elliot's voice suddenly echoed down the stairwell, followed immediately by his heavy footsteps. When he arrived at the bottom of the landing, both women smiled at the small bundle he held in his arms. Four day old Chloe slept peacefully, curled up in a soft mint green blanket.

"There she is, my beautiful little grandbaby," Bernie cooed, reaching in with a finger to tickle the sleeping infant's belly. Dragging her eyes away for just a moment and standing on her tiptoes, she reached up to kiss her son's cheek. "Merry Christmas El."

"Merry Christmas Mom," Elliot murmured with a smile, carefully transferring the baby over into Bernie's arms. The older woman's eyes filled with tears as she looked down at the newborn, kissing her forehead softly.

"Hello Chloe Rose. I'm so glad you and Mommy are both home, and we can have Christmas as one big happy family, yes I am," Bernie murmured to the sleeping baby softly as she disappeared into the living room, leaving Elliot and Olivia alone in the hallway.

Reaching over, Elliot wrapped his arm around Olivia's shoulder and tugged her to him. "Poopy diapers are gross. What do you feed that kid? And what are you doing on your feet? You're supposed to be relaxing. You heard the doctor. You need to take it easy until the c-section stitches come out."

"You're being overprotective as usual." Olivia reached up to kiss the tip of his nose gently as she leaned into his embrace. "I feel fine. My only complaint is that your daughter is a night owl. I love to nurse her, but I hope she doesn't make a habit of keeping me up all night."

"You never used to complain when I kept you up all night," Elliot grinned, leaning in to nuzzle her ear playfully. "How long is it until we can make love again?" He asked the question but didn't wait long enough for her to answer before he kissed her.

"Mom! Dad!" Chase skidded out into the hallway, a disgusted but secretly pleased look crossing his face when he saw their passionate embrace. "Ugh, would you two stop being so gross and get in here! Everyone's in the living room. It's time for presents!"

* * *

The day went fast, as joyous days were prone to do.

Present opening was everything it should have been. Loud, cheerful exclamations rang out amid the sound of paper ripping. Boxes were torn open, hugs were exchanged, and the sound of new toys filled the room. The excitement in the air was palpable, the energy level extraordinary. The turkey dinner was delicious, the Christmas pudding rich, and by the time Bernie, Tom, and the kids left later that evening, everyone was completely and utterly exhausted.

A fading fire crackled in the fireplace, the air rife with snaps, hisses, and the refreshing odor of burning timber. To the right of the couch, the Christmas tree was still lit, the weary lights twinkling over the pile of now open gifts that rested on the floor. The couch was soft under Elliot's back as he lay propped up on a pillow watching the light, lazy snowfall outside, a satisfied smile on his face.

Life was good. Every day, but especially today.

"You coming to bed?" Olivia's soft voice floated in from the hallway and Elliot twisted his head to see her leaning in the doorframe, clad in pajama bottoms and one of his old ratty sweatshirts.

"In a bit." Elliot smiled at her warmly. "Chloe finally down?"

Olivia returned the smile as she padded across the hardwood floor, the grips on her slippers squeaking. "Yeah. She was hungry and wound up. Too much excitement for one day."

Elliot shifted over to make room for her and Olivia lay down beside him, her head resting on his chest, her arm draped over his abdomen. "Chase asleep too?"

She nodded languorously, her cheek brushing against the soft fabric of his T-shirt. "Out cold. A busy day for him too."

"Do you think he liked my gift? I mean, really liked it?"

Olivia smiled, reaching up to nuzzle the underside of her lover's chin. "He was thrilled El. Tickets to a Yankees game and a weekend in New York with his father? Can't beat that."

Elliot smiled happily, reassured. "I just wanted this Christmas to be special. Last Christmas was hard. On all of us."

Olivia squeezed his side lightly. "You were still recovering last year. Still barely walking. We're all thrilled to have you back up to full speed. Especially me. I'm tired of doing all the work around here.

Elliot smiled briefly at her quip before his face grew serious again. "I just want Chase to know that even though his baby sister is here already, I'm not about to forget about him. Even though I will be able to experience a lot more with her than I did him, I still love them equally."

Olivia propped her chin up on his chest and smiled sympathetically. "El, it's Christmas. It's been a good year. You're healthy again. We had a bit of a scare with Chloe, but that wasn't unexpected given my track record. We knew a natural delivery was not going to be an option. She's small, but she's healthy, and both Chloe and I are doing great. Chase knows you love him. Now would you stop worrying, please? Why don't you just shut up and kiss me?"

And he did, long and slow, the crackle of the fire creating the soundtrack. When they separated, breathless, Elliot reached behind his head under one of the couch cushions and drew out a small wrapped box. With a mischievous grin, he placed the gift on his abdomen in front of her.

Reaching to take the box, Olivia shot him a chastising look. "I thought we agreed no gifts this year. We've spent enough money on the new house and the kids."

Elliot smiled, kissing her forehead lightly. "Just open it."

Sitting up, Olivia delicately removed the wrapping, revealing a small black velvet box underneath. Using her thumbs, she snapped open the hinged lid and her breath caught in her throat as a shiny diamond ring glinted back at her. The white gold reflected the lights of the tree, creating a shimmering rainbow of color. The band was of medium thickness, twisted elegantly at the sides, and hosted four small diamonds that winked back at her.

"El." That was the only word Olivia was able to vocalize, emotion clogging her throat as she twisted the beautiful piece of jewelry in the low light.

Elliot sat up beside her, smug at the look of awe on her face as he pried the box from her fingers. "Recognize it? It's your old wedding band. I just had it altered a little."

Shocked, Olivia tore her eyes from the velvet container. "I thought you said my old wedding ring was never found in Jake's possessions? We assumed he had pawned it."

Elliot shrugged. "I wanted it to be a surprise. This ring is special after all. We didn't know it at the time, but you were wearing this ring when we made Chase." He pointed to the glittering diamonds. "Your original band had two stones; one for you, and one for me. When we learned about Chloe, I went out and got two more added, for our children."

The sentiment floored Olivia and she could do nothing but watch, speechless, as Elliot removed the ring from the box's dark velvet lining and held it between two fingers.

"Liv, I know your reservations about getting married again. This isn't a proposal - I just wanted you to have it back. But I am promising you right now, if you ever decide that getting remarried to me is what you want, you just have to say the word. I don't want to rush you into anything. You don't even need to put this ring on right now if you don't want to. But I know without a shadow of a doubt that you are the only woman I want to be with. You're it for me, and I'll be waiting when you're ready."

Reaching out, Olivia slowly plucked the ring from his fingers, twisting it around, letting the light gleam off the raised planes of the diamonds. Craning her neck and smiling up at him, she gently slipped the ring over her left ring finger, looking down for only a moment to admire it before returning her gaze to Elliot.

"I'm ready El. More than ready."

* * *

**END**


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